The Game of Mafia
by EternallyDrowning
Summary: Sakura is the niece of a Mafia boss. In order to protect her, her uncle -the boss- hires a bodyguard for her. Gaara. He's stoic, calm, and lethal, and Sakura wants nothing to do with him. Now she'll use every method in the book to ditch him. GaaraxSakura
1. Mafian Princess

**Yes, yes, I did it again. I started another story. SO SUE ME! *sticks out tongue***

**I'm gong to be switching POV. I'll try and make it every other chapter, but if not I'll just state the change (like I do in LWW)**

**And don't give me crap about the Mafia name I picked (how about YOU try to pick a badass sounding Italian name when you're American!) Oh, and apparently it's the name of a pizza place (info from my dad) so I have no claim to whatever company that is. **

…

**I hate creating names.**

***bawls in a corner***

* * *

_**SAKURA'S POV**_

"_Why are you getting so angry! Nothing happened!" a male voice yells, his voice muffled by the walls of the room._

"_Nothing happened!? Mario, you killed a man! Sakura was in the room right next door! What if she had walked over to see you!? What if she saw that!? I will not raise my daughter around this! She will have nothing to do with this family and neither will I!" a woman screams, her voice perfectly clear with her loudness, even through the muffling the walls make. The sound of a door slamming and loud footsteps fills the little girl's ears._

"_Sakura, honey, grab your things, we're leaving. Sai is already waiting for you in the car." the woman says sweetly, her hand wiping at her eyes as water comes out of them, making her mascara run. Her other hand is carrying multiple duffel bags as she descends the stairs._

_The little girl looks down at the picture she was drawing in front of her, the yellow crayon still in her hand. "But Mommy, I'm not done yet!" she pleads._

_The picture was a simple one; one that fits the artistic capabilities of a five year old. It was a picture of four people, stick people that is, with a half-drawn yellow sun in the corner. Two of the stick people were tall, one with a purple dress on, one with a brown tux and bowtie, both of them having bright red hair scribbled at the tops of their heads. The woman's hair descends down toward her lower back, the man's being scribbled on in a disarray of color only to his neck. Two children are in the middle. One, a little girl, is in between the two adults. Her hair is a scribbled in pink down to her shoulders, with a simply drawn blue dress on her. The other child was a boy with black hair scribbled on, as well as black pants, shirt, and shoes. Each of the stick figures had a bright smile plastered on their face._

"_You've got one minute." her mother sighs, adjusting the bags in her hand as she walks toward the girl, her high heeled shoes clicking against the tile as she went._

_Vigorously, the girl starts coloring in the sun, and finishes extending the squiggles of rays toward the people. Once finished, she places the crayon back in its box, picks up the picture, and walks with the woman, her mother, toward the door leading to the outside world._

"_Binaca! Bianca, wait!" the male voice calls, its owner running down the steps, chasing after the receding figures._

_The little girl looks back toward the man, her hand clutching the skirt of her mother's dress tightly._

"_Mommy? Why is Uncle sad?" she asks innocently._

_The lady looks down at her daughter. "Because we're leaving." she answers quietly._

"_Uncle!" the girl yells, letting go of her mother's skirt and running toward the man. "Don't be sad! We'll be back!" She hands the crayon drawing to him. "Here. I made it for you. I'll draw you a picture every day, so don't be sad." she says smiling, tilting her head to the side innocently, the way only a child can._

_The man takes it, his eyes starting to water._

"_Sakura! Get over here right now! Get away from him!" her mother yells._

_The child runs back to her, her mother grabbing her hand protectively, not allowing the child the chance of letting go._

_Turning, one last time toward her uncle, the girl waves. "Goodbye, Uncle! See you tomorrow!"_

I bolt up in bed, sweating.

I sigh, letting my hand rest against the clammy skin of my forehead, the cold sweat dripping down my face. My breath is uneven, so I take a few deep gulps of air to relax.

It's been a long time since I had that dream. That nightmare…that memory.

There was nothing scary what happened in it, of course, but that wasn't why it always fills me with fear. It was the feeling I got every time I saw the scene play out. It was like I was only able to look strait ahead, to walk. It was like if I turned around one more time, I would die. There were two eyes on me, always watching, and they weren't going to let me go. Ever. I couldn't escape, no matter what I did or how far I ran.

"You're pathetic," I growl at myself, "getting so worked up over a dream."

Yet even though I say that, I still feel like I'm being watched…

A faint pressure catches my attention. It's at the foot of my bed. Something's there. Something's sitting on my bed. Another one, more pressure… Someone is on my bed.

My eyes widen.

Someone's in my room…someone….

Assassin?

Before I can even process what I'm doing, my hand snaps under my pillow, returning with a short yet sharp blade, aiming it's edge directly at the face of my intruder.

He stares at me, frozen in terror. Eyes wide, he watches me, waiting for me to hurt him.

"Scribbles!" I sigh in relief, feeling my body relax completely. I place the knife back under my pillow. "Come here baby. I'm sorry. Mommy thought you were one of the big bad Italian ogres come to bully me again." I tease, poking him on his small little nose. His face scrunches up as I do so, his bright blue eyes closing at the contact.

I pick up my fat little baby, his head immediately nestling against my neck, his whiskers tickling my sensitive skin.

"Can you ever forgive me?" I ask him, stroking his silky white fur gently.

"Nyan." is all he replies with, but I know I'm forgiven by the loud purr that soon follows the repeated stroking.

"Come on you handsome little stud." I coo, carrying him toward the kitchen. I set him on the counter, his throne overlooking the vast empire that is his domain. I pour him some cat food into his silver dish, pouring myself a bowl of cereal in an alike manner, and begin eating.

He looks down on the dish meant for him, then over at me. Eyeing his food, then mine, he decides to meow in protest.

I roll my eyes.

"You spoiled little fat-ass. Fine. Here." I shove one last spoonful of cereal into my mouth and place the 2/3 empty bowl in front of him. "But you owe me at least five minutes of playtime to burn off the calories." He starts lapping up the milk and purring, once again, before chomping down and swallowing the soggy cereal, completely ignoring the strings attached to his feast.

I leave him to eat while I go to the bathroom to get ready for school.

* * *

I find it hard to concentrate when all I can think about is going home…and boredom.

We've been covering Wednesday's test both yesterday and today. I don't see the point. The students don't want to talk about something that most likely killed them, or something they aced. I belong to the later, but I'm not bragging. I had just covered the material earlier at my old school before I moved.

"Alright then, class, you have the last ten minutes to yourself. I suggest doing the assignment written on the board if you didn't already do it yesterday. It will be due tomorrow at the beginning of class. I'll be checking it this time so I won't take any excuses." my teacher says tiredly.

I feel bad for her, in a way. It's the last class of the day and we get to go home in ten minutes. She, however, has to stay for at least an hour more for the students that missed Wednesday's test to be able to make it up.

One reason why I will never be a teacher.

Bored, I lean back in my chair, my legs extending forward, somewhat kicking the leg of the girl in front of me, but I don't care.

"Hey, Sasuke, I saw your dad on TV last night." a shaggy haired boy named Kiba says to Sasuke. "He's the one that busted that mafia drug smuggling thing, wasn't he?"

I let my eyes wander over to the two boys, half-heartedly paying attention.

"No. It wasn't the mafia. My father had originally been looking for them, but he found the mob instead. He simply used this chance to expose another of the world's underworld scum." Sasuke says calmly.

Underworld scum, huh? I guess that fits.

Kiba walks away from Sasuke after the comment, but I still watch him. He's flipping through the pages of a book, a thick one by the looks of it. Speaking only when need be, he is a "cool" type of guy. His eyes are a deep black, and his hair is a silky onyx, the opposite of Scribbles. He always keeps his calm, no matter what the conditions, but I suppose he hasn't been in a lot of _conditions_ to begin with.

Son of a detective, he uses his inherited analytical skills to become the top student of his class, and basically the school too.

Perfect attendance, perfect grades, perfect behavior, no detentions…

He's the ideal student.

I sigh.

It must be nice being normal, even though being the son of a detective isn't as normal as most people. Still, it beats people trying to kill you at least twice a week, and a mafia boss Uncle sending you letters and cash and gifts that are most likely stolen, once a month.

I sigh again. I seem to be doing that more frequently now. I wonder why? This month has been much calmer than the others. Maybe I'm just depressed because I know it can't last.

The bell rings.

Students rush out the door, barely being able to hold their book-bags in their hurry. Soon there is only me left; me and the teacher.

"Have a nice weekend, Sakura. Try to stay out of trouble." she says politely.

I ignore her and head out the door.

What's with her anyway? I know she hates me. I'm the troublemaker of the class. Hell, I'm the troublemaker of the school. I always get into fights and beat people up, inside and outside of school. It's not my fault. One of the ways I've been able to survive is to keep people off my back. If I'm the strongest in the school I won't have to worry about anyone picking on me and invoking the wrath of Uncle. There's also the fact that not many people like to be friends with violent girls. With no friends there's no leverage for anyone to have over me. Two birds with one stone.

I fumble with my book-bag, switching which hand to hold it in until I get comfortable. That's the one thing I hate about Japanese schools. Book-bags. They're like irritating little briefcases. You can't position them right for anything. If I ever had to run for it I'd have to ditch the bag first, which is time consuming and a waste of perfectly good homework. Then I'd have to think up an excuse as to why I didn't do it.

_I'm sorry, Teacher, but I was running for my life from a rival mafia family because I am an Italian mafia princess of the family Giovanni. Could I please have an extra day to work on it?_ I think in amusement.

Huh. I'd love to see her look on _that_ one. Of course, she'd think I was lying and send me to detention or something.

I make it outside, I barely noticed I was walking in my thoughts. It's a clear day, and there's a small breeze blowing, just enough to sway my hair around my face.

I love this type of weather. It makes you believe that nothing can go wrong.

Looking around, I see all the other students as they leave.

I'm the odd ball out. Everyone here has black hair or very dark brown hair, though some bleached theirs so it's more blonde. Mine is such a light shade of red that it looks pink. I have pale skin unlike their darker tanned, and then there's my accent.

I was only in Italy for the first five years of my life, but I was a very talkative child. I speak fluent Japanese, but there's still a slight accent, and people notice it. When I first came here everyone was asking me where I came from. They couldn't quite place it. I never told them of course, and I ended up punching a girl in the face because she wouldn't leave me alone. That's when they started knowing I was extremely different.

Since then I've been alone.

People don't talk to me unless necessary. No one but Sai, but he's different. He was hired to be my best friend. He has to talk to me. Sure, I guess we're close. We've been "friends" ever since I was five. It's a strange type of relationship. When someone is bought to be your friend…it just doesn't feel the same.

Not that I'm complaining. I don't want or need friends.

But I can't just send him away. I'm his job. I can't fire him for doing nothing wrong. I don't feel like getting into unnecessary arguments either.

"Tch." I growl.

He's going to pretend to be mad at me. I didn't take my cell phone with me this morning. If he pretends he wanted to pick me up from school he's going to demand to know why I didn't call him.

The truth is, I never bring my cell phone. Anywhere. It's just a hindrance. If I'm ever running during an attack and it goes off, I could be done for. If I'm ever taken captive or don't comply to their demands, all they would need is my cell phone to see the list of numbers and names. I don't have that many "friends" listed, but still. I don't like involving others.

I give one last sigh, this time it's one for the hell of it, and start making my solitary way home.

* * *

**Cookies to those who R&R**

**Oh, and Scribbles isn't a figment of my imagination, he is based after my fat-ass Maine-Coon cat. A fat, giant, BLOB of lovable fur. Though mine is gray with green eyes… Still… THEY'RE SO ADORABLE! ^_^**


	2. The Bodyguard

**YAY! I updated! Yeah, no school today because it snowed like 5-8 inches. IT'S MARCH PEOPLE! God I hate North Dakota. And we're in a huge flood warning! It's supposed to get up to like… 40 some feet. *shudders***

**Thank God I can swim…kinda… Nah, I'll drown. Probably.**

**Song used in this chapter is Dirt Room by Blue October. If you don't know of them, now you do.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

I enter my empty apartment, my iPod blaring in my ears as the door swings open soundlessly until it rests against the wall. Walking through the doorway, closing the ajar door behind me, I enter the room that is the kitchen.

The music in my iPod changes slightly, and I hear the guitar changing into a voice and lyrics.

_I'm like a ghost_

_I'll be living in a dirt room_

_Waiting for the day to be close _

_To the window when you're home _

_I'll be standing by your back door _

_Reaching for the knife in my coat _

_I'm going to put it to your throat_

My hand reaches out toward the handle of the fridge, content with the Blue October song, opening it with ease and grabbing hold of the opened carton of orange juice, lifting it to my lips, and chugging it down noisily.

I may be a girl, but I have a lack of manners in my own home since it's just me and Mr. La'FatAss. Then again…I don't have much manners anywhere…

Shrugging, I take another swig from the carton, focusing more on the blaring music than the dilemma that threatens my girly reputation.

_Sweaty piggy, you're a bad man_

_What a fucking sad way to go_

_Your mother raised you as a joke_

_I should have wiped away a burden_

_Use the curtain in the kitchen to choke_

_You_

I smile. This is my favorite song. The lyrics are amazing, the music is fantastic…

Fuck it.

I start singing along.

"You think you own me. You should have known me. You took the future and the food off my family's plate. You think you'll use me. I'm stronger than you."

I take a moments break from singing so I can take another swig of the orange juice, my body walking through the apartment to try and find Scribbles. He's usually lounging around in the kitchen, but since I didn't see him he's probably playing hide and seek with me, like usual._"_Oh god then you awoke," I start singing again, still walking. "You started screaming through the duct tape." I've passed by the living room now, still no sign of him. Then I see the bathroom door, slightly opened, a steady stream of light spilling out through the window onto the tiled floor, a shadow trying to hide behind it.

There you are!

I continue singing, casually, trying not to give away that I've discovered his location. I walk up to the door, and start pushing it open. "Don't ever think I'm letting you go. I'm busy digging you a hole. Now you'll be living in a dirt room, breathing through the straw of your-"

My eyes widen.

The sight before me fills me with such shock that I drop the carton of OJ, feeling the cold liquid sliding past my feet and across the tiled floor.

My mouth opens in an attempt to scream, but nothing comes out. Instead, I find myself walking backwards, slowly, putting as much distance between me and the corpse inside the bathroom.

I slam my eyes closed, trying to forget the sight of it.

It doesn't seem to be working. I can still see it, as clearly as if I was still staring at it.

The person was clad in a black hooded sweatshirt and jeans. A regular guy. His hair was completely black, no signs of dyeing or bleaching whatsoever. He certainly didn't look threatening. Yet there he was…his eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth just…hanging… and his neck…

My hand grips at my own, as if to remind myself that I was not the one it had happened to. Yet I still feel as though a blade has stabbed through my skin, slicing its way so that my head was nearly able to come off of my shoulders.

Sick.

I think I'm going to be sick.

The liquid in my stomach no longer seems to want to stay there, and I try to run for the kitchen sink, using so much force to get there that my iPod falls out of my pocket and onto the floor, completely forgotten. I only make it to the counter when a movement from behind me catches my attention.

I freeze, slowly turning around.

I wish I hadn't.

Swallowing, I take in the vision of the killer.

His hair is completely red, like the blood seeping onto the bathroom floor. His skin so pale… yet he wears completely black, baggy pants and T-shirt completely colored that way, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. But his eyes… they're so cold…serious… I feel as though all my breath has been taken away, and I'm drowning. Drowning in the deep pools of Jade as he slowly kills me through his glare.

He's going to kill me…

"S…" My mouth forms, my hand searching behind me desperately for something to fight him with. "S…"

Scribbles… where is he? My blood drains from my body and I feel light headed. I almost pass out, my eyes getting blotched with black, but the sheer terror of losing my cat keeps me awake.

Scribbles is my only true friend, and my guard dog. He has a certain instinct about him so that he knows when someone is hiding a weapon or wants to hurt me. He erupts into growling and hissing fits and lunges at the person threatening me, his claws and teeth becoming deadly devices of pain. When this man came in… Scribbles must have reacted and attacked.

Did this man hurt him? Is he alive? Where is he!?

The desperation of finding my cat is all I can think about. So much so that I take my eyes off the killer, spin around, fully viewing the counter.

I was right. This is the counter with the knife block. Grabbing one, a much smaller one than I had wanted, but a sturdy one none the less, I turn back around to face him, only this time I charge at him.

A yell bursts out of my lungs, more of a desperate plea than a battle cry, as I lunge at him with the knife aiming right for where his liver is.

He seems completely unfazed, merely dodging me within the second it took me to aim the knife. He grabs my arm harshly, pain swelling through my muscle as he forcefully turns it so that it's pinned behind my back. I wince, suppressing a yelp, but I use the momentum of the attack in order to throw the knife toward his face.

Kill him! Kill him! Please die! Please!

Without an ounce of hesitation, he swings me around quickly so that my arm is pinned behind me by his chest, using his newly freed hand to catch the flying knife between two fingers, only millimeters before it grazed his skin.

My heart sinks.

His leg sweeps out against mine, causing me to fall forward slightly. He catches me, now that I've lost the tenseness of struggle, as I fall. He uses this chance to adjust me once again, his leg encasing my own so that I can't move to kick him, my arm still pinned behind me by his chest, only much more tightly this time, much more effectively. The hand he hasn't used yet reaches out and grabs a fistful of my hair, close to my head, to keep me from looking around or moving my head at all.

It feels like he's ripping my scalp off my head!

He pulls my head upward, my chin being forced outward as he pulls me toward his chest, forcing me to look up into his eyes, those cold, cold eyes.

My body convulses into spasms of shaking, my whole body quivering with fear. I would have fallen, my legs giving out, but he's made it so that my body can't even move, much less fall.

I'm completely helpless.

A tear makes its way down my face, the warm wetness of it a dam breaking, allowing more and more water to escape. Soon I'm nearly bawling.

He doesn't flinch. He doesn't change. He's like ice. He wants to crush me to death. He just looks at me, his eyes so terrifying I want to scream.

I try to scream, opening my mouth to let the desperate sound escape, but the moment I even move he quickly springs into action, using his free hand, the one holding the knife, to place the sharp blade against my throat painfully.

I feel the warm sensation as a single drop of blood slides down my neck.

As though in an all knowing epiphany, my body stops shaking. Should I move, the knife would slice my throat open.

Scribbles…

Is this what happened to you?

I'm so sorry.

I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry.

"Hey…what did you do?" I ask quietly, the knife making another drop or two of blood flow from my neck at the movement of me talking.

He relaxes the knife, but only enough to allow me to speak.

"What did I do to what?" he asks in return, his voice void of emotion, and just as painful to me as nails on a chalkboard.

I tense. He holds me even tighter, thinking I want to try to escape.

But I can't hold it in, and the last of the air in my lungs escapes loudly into the room.

"What the fuck did you do to my cat, you bastard!?"

* * *

He lets go of me, and I fall in a heap to the floor.

My breath comes out painful and quick, like hyperventilation, but with hiccups. I make no attempt to move, allowing myself this small little luxury of rest as I try to catch my breath and calm my nerves.

The killer has made no attempt to harm me again, so I accept that he has something in mind for me, but later.

But for now I'm alive.

Scribbles…

At the thought of his name I force myself to move. My body protests, but I use my willpower to make it. My hands use their nails to dig into the floor, my arms pull me along like a worm, and me feet try to push me against the tile, but keep slipping since they're still wet with the orange juice, but I'm moving. It may not be efficiently, it may not be gracefully, but I'm moving.

He wasn't in the kitchen, the living room, or the bathroom. That only leaves the bedroom left. My room. The one place he considers to be his own.

I make it to the bedroom door, pushing it open weakly, and crawling in on my hands and knees, too weak to do much more.

The carpet makes my body sink lower into the floor with its weight, and I collapse slightly at the difference in support, but get up again.

"Scribbles? Scribbles? Here kitty, kitty…" I call, ignoring the pain from my throat as it moves against the cut from the knife.

There's no reply like there usually is, and I feel my chest clench in disappointment, and fear.

"Scribbles?" I call again, this time with more demanding desperation.

I wait a bit, expecting no reply again, but then, a few moments after I called, comes a weak little sound. It isn't a meow, but it is so pitiful, so girly and weak, that I know it has to be him.

Following the pathetic excuse of a sound, I make my way over to the bed, only to realize that the sound is coming from under it.

"Scribbles, Baby…" I call sweetly to the darkness under the bed. My eyes are met with two small glowing orbs, blinking slowly and weak.

My heartbeat flutters.

"Scribbles…come here, Honey. Let me see you." I plead, tapping at the floor next to me, trying to coax him out.

There's a shuffling sound from underneath the bed, and I realize that he's moving. He comes toward me, slowly, tiredly, but I soon see a white paw come from underneath the bed and into the light of the room, followed by a leg, a chest, and a head with two furry little ears.

I help him out, pulling him out gently and placing him onto my lap.

My hand goes back and forth against his soft fur, back and forth, back and forth. There's a strange sound, and I realize he's trying to purr. The very effort of it…him trying to show me he's okay…

I hug him.

"You're a good boy, aren't you." I say, releasing him back onto my lap.

I look down at myself.

Red?

Blood? Is it from my neck?

No…there wouldn't be this much…the wound wasn't that deep…

I look down at scribbles, and see the discoloration of his fur.

Red.

I look down at the carpet.

A trail of red leading to underneath my bed.

"Scribbles?" I look him over, and that's when I see it. His tail, which was so long and bushy and full, like a big feather duster, has disappeared. Instead there is only a slight stub of where it used to be.

My eyes well up with tears again, making my vision go blurry.

"I'm so sorry." I tell him, wadding up my shirt and pressing it against his wound to keep the blood from flowing.

He growls at me, his claws digging into my skin, him being too weak to move.

I pet him some more, telling him it's okay.

We sit there, the two of us. Weak. Beaten. Alive.

* * *

There're sounds coming from outside my room. I don't want to look to see what they are. I don't want to know. I don't care.

It's gotten somewhat dark out, the light that was leaking in through the window in my room has become a purplish hue, signaling the end of the day.

I look down at my loyal friend.

He doesn't move. His eyes are closed and not moving to open. The only reason I know he's still alive is the feeling of his chest moving up and down against my legs. He's probably lost conscious due to blood loss, or maybe he's just sleeping.

I find myself praying, to whoever wants to listen, that it's the later.

There's another sound now, footsteps, and they're making their way toward my room.

I don't look up to see who opens my door fully and enters my room, I already know.

That man, that killer.

He's here to finish the job.

I only hope that he doesn't find torturing and mutilating animals fun.

He walks toward me. My hand is still stroking Scribble's stained fur, so I just ignore him. His black sneakers appear next to me, I can see them out of the corner of my eye.

So, he's going to kill me by destroying my head.

That's okay.

I'm not afraid anymore.

I have nothing to lose.

I close my eyes, but the blow never comes. Instead, I hear him move again, right next to me. He's crouched down beside me, lowered himself to my level.

I open my eyes.

"For your neck." he says, his voice still void of emotion, but not nearly as terrifying.

Now I look at him, or rather, what he's offering me. It's a white piece of fabric. A gauze pad?

"I don't need it." I say quietly, looking back down at Scribbles.

"Take it." he orders, his voice demanding, getting the edge that made it more threatening like before. He leans closer, extending his arm to give it to me.

"No!" I scream, my hand lashing out at his and smacking it away.

The gauze pad flies across the room, landing on the floor a couple feet away from either of us.

I dare look him in the eyes. They're still cold and terrifying, like death. All of these things are being targeted at me. He's glaring.

"This," I reach up toward my neck and touch the wound, flinching at the contact and squinting back tears of pain, "This wound won't kill me. But he…" I look down at Scribbles, now true tears of pain filling my eyes.

The man says nothing, he just reaches behind himself to grab something.

I lean over my cat protectively, scared that the man has a knife. Instead, the redhead returns with a white case with a red plus sign on it.

A first aid kit?

That noise from before…was he getting it out of the bathroom? He'd have to unclasp it from the wall…

Again, the man provides no words for what he's doing. He just opens the case, takes out a disinfectant ointment bottle and a swab, and begins dabbing at where the tail used to be on my baby.

Scribbles immediately starts growling, a threatening evil growl. Still, the man continues his work. He adds a strip of gauze to cover the wound, and then applies tape around it to keep it in place, even if it were bitten or scratched. When finished, he places all the wrappers in one pile, and the leftovers back in the box. Then, with another glare, he grabs a gauze pad and hands it toward me.

"Take it."

* * *

"Don't think this means anything, I still don't trust you." I growl, sitting on a chair in reverse, my arms resting against its rim. I don't dare let him out of my sight.

He did try to kill me after all, and he did kill that man before.

"Whether you trust me or not is irrelevant." he says in a monotone.

I lean in more on the chair, resting my chin on my arms, but careful not to catch the gauze pad on its edge. "You killed someone in my house…" I say quietly. I remember the body again, but only momentarily. I think of Scribbles immediately after. Scribbles who is alive, and sleeping on my bed. Alive because of said killer.

"He was here to kill you first." he says, leaning against the wall nonchalantly, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed, calm.

I tense.

"So you're here to kill me? Who hired you?" I demand.

His expression doesn't change. "Mario Giovanni."

Uncle?

"That's bullshit!" I scream, standing up so fast the chair flies out from beneath me.

The redhead opens his eyes. "I wasn't hired to kill you."

"Then what were you hired for? Who are you!?" I snap back instantly.

He just stares at me for a moment, taking in my body language, my emotions. It's like he's calculating how to handle me, like he's just as untrusting of me as I am of him. Finally, he decides to speak up. "Sabaku no Gaara."

"Sabaku no-"

"I've been hired to be your bodyguard."

* * *

**Bet you all thought she would get attacked on her way home, huh? I mislead you! MWUHAHAHAHA! Sorry bout that, it was just easier to have her attacked at home.**


	3. Dinner and a Movie

**I mention a WHOLE bunch of things in this chapter that I do not own. I own NONE of the movies I've listed (but I love them all…well…the ones of them I've seen)**

**And, alas, I do not own Dir en Grey. I may love them, I may listen to them, I may wish to watch them live, but I have no right to them.**

***cries***

**TOTAL THANKS TO WiccadBaltane0501 FOR CATCHING MY MISTAKE! THANK YOU! I have fixed it now!**

* * *

**SAKURA'S POV**

This is infuriating.

I stab my chopstick into a large piece of broccoli mercilessly, too overwhelmed with negative feelings to even try and pick it up properly. The piece of green vegetable stays attached to the utensil, and I quickly shove it in my mouth, chewing angrily before swallowing. When finished, I slam the chopsticks down on the table loudly, grabbing hold of my glass of water tightly and bring it to my mouth, chugging it down in three huge gulps. I slam this down on the table as well, making an even louder sound than the chopsticks.

There's no way I will allow this to happen…

I clench the tablecloth in both of my fists until they're shaking with the effort. My teeth clench tightly, as tightly as the tablecloth between my hands, as I stare down the bastard at the other end of the table.

This _Gaara_ person must have a lot of self restraint, or is just completely dense, because he hasn't even flinched or appeared to have _noticed _my tantrum. No, he just sits there, calmly, his eyeliner covered eyes closed into black blotches on is pale skin, as he delicately brings each piece of food to his mouth. He chews slowly, quietly, with the up-most of grace. The chopsticks in his hand are positioned perfectly. He hasn't even dropped a piece of food once.

It pisses me off!

Who the hell does he think he is!

This is my house! He has no right to be here, and I certainly don't _want_ him here!

My glares do nothing to him, neither do the many murders I've planned for him in my head, instead he sits there with such relaxed calmness that I dare call him smug.

I swing my head to the side, sending my deadly glare through the window and toward the night sky. Usually I wouldn't do this, but I feel as though I'll implode unless I can vent my emotions _somewhere_! The window and the night sky just happened to have been in my way, so I'm taking it out on them.

A vibrating feeling erupts from my throat, and I find I'm grumbling a human growl and a few choice words under my breath.

Normally I'd refrain from such behavior in front of a guest, but he's not really a _guest_ is he…

"_What the hell is this!" I hissed, extending the heavy duffel bag toward the damned redhead sitting soundlessly in a chair. It's black and extremely heavy, with a multitude of zippers, and a tag with a barcode attached to it. Inside it was clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, deodorant, shampoo and conditioner, a razor, and other such everyday things, but _under _all of that was the problem._

_Knives, a gun, fake IDs, and a shit-load of suspicious looking bottles of…something._

_The red-haired-menace looked at me without a change in expression or interest. He just replied with two simple words, "A bag."_

"_That's not the point," I growled irritably, thinking that he was just trying to toy with me. "Why is it here?" I demanded, adjusting the duffel bag so that it didn't rub against my skin so painfully in its weight._

"_I'm here." Gaara said in that stoic monotone of his._

_He's just avoiding answering the question, isn't he…_

_My eyes had widened then, as the meaning of it sunk in. "You don't mean…" I had started, my voice rising in anger, "Absolutely not_!"

_Him saying nothing was enough of an answer for me._

_He was planning on staying here. Not nearby, not next door, but _here,_ with _me, _in _my _apartment._

"_I don't fucking think so!" I replied louder, my head getting so overwhelmed with cuss words to throw at him that I didn't even have time to process what they all were. "You're not staying here."_

"_Hn." he said, sitting up in the chair and preparing to stand up. Had I won? Was he giving up? He was going to leave me alone? Was it really _that _easy? He walked over to me, slowly, unthreateningly. His pale arm extended forward, and he held out his hand for his bag. Grateful that he understood my position without trying to complain, I hand it to him. Taking it with ease, he swung it over his shoulder, gently enough so not to break the bottles found inside, but rough enough to show off a gruff manly side to him._

_I almost rolled by eyes._

_I relaxed my shoulders as he walked by me, heading toward the door._

"Goodbye redheaded bastard! It wasn't good knowing you!" _I had thought to myself._

_Unfortunately, my happy thoughts were cut short as a firm had was placed against the back of my neck from behind, and two strong fingers pressed tightly against the pressure points located there. My world was turned black then, so quickly that I almost didn't notice the sharp pain._

_I awoke to the bright light of the next morning, only to discover that the red fire-breathing dragon had made my apartment its den._

No matter how many times I keep going over that memory, it still doesn't feel any less…infuriating.

That's it. I'm done.

I shove myself away from the table, my chair scraping against the floor as I do. Gaara looks up at this, his head adjusting only slightly, but his eyes moving to stare at me intently. I ignore this and start walking toward the kitchen, away from the dining room where we were eating.

"Since you've adamantly declined to leave and refuse to let me _make_ you leave," I start in a somewhat monotone, too many emotions running through me to single a specific one out for speech, "the least you can do is wash the dishes since you're staying here without paying part of the rent."

I'm in the kitchen now, Gaara still hasn't said a word, he just keeps eating like nothing happened, next to the sink. Looking around I spot what I'm looking for, a toothbrush. It's not as comfortable to use as my other one, but it's good enough. I'd rather use an uncomfortable toothbrush than a toothbrush that was in the small room where a man was murdered. I'll have to remember to buy a new one tomorrow after school.

I run the water, dragging a small stream of toothpaste across the brush. The tube of toothpaste had taken me forever to find, and I was afraid I might have to use the one in the bathroom, or ask Gaara for his. Both of which were clearly out of the question. I'd have to remember to buy some more tomorrow as well. My anger must have still needed a vent, for I brushed my teeth in record time, at a fast and merciless pace. I rinse and gargle with the faucet water, leaving my toothbrush off to the side and out of the way by the sink.

It's about time I got ready for bed.

* * *

"Ringo ame… Katate ni naiteita… Tsuki yomi sou no yami e… 'Nee mama wa doko ni iru no?'" the voice sings in the shadows. His voice is smooth and steady, repeating the same song over, and over, and over for the past hour.

I open my eyes, greeted by an unending wall of black, evidence of the night in my room. Closing my eyes again, I'm met by the same darkness, making me wonder if I had ever opened my eyes to begin with.

"Mimekatachi me ni yaki… Tsukete dakishimete…" the voice continues to sing.

My body shifts, rolling over so that I lay on my side, my face being pressed against the wrinkled blue sheets of my bed. My hair is in a halo of pink around me, against my pillow and shoulders…

Still not working.

I shift positions again, this time so that I'm on my stomach, but the effort of the move catches the cord beneath my arm, ripping the earphones away from my head.

The music turns to silence, but when I listen closely, I hear the faint whispers of its words.

"_Mushi ga naku zawameku… Hachigatsu no gionsoka to sensu oku…"_

I sigh.

This is not working. I'm never going to get to sleep like this.

Adjusting again, this time to sit up, I feel around the bed in order to find my iPod. I suppose it doesn't help that it matches the covers on my bed… Jeez, after I finally found it after I had lost it earlier when I was attacked…because of him.

Damn freeloader.

There, my hand clasps around something hard and metallic. I bring it toward my face, the bright glow from its screen lighting a small portion of the room. Words parade across the small lit space: **Song- Kasumi, Artist- Dir en Grey**. I smile slightly, thankful for the help of my makeshift lullaby, but it still wasn't enough to put me to sleep. I press the stop button twice, turning the device off, ending the music and light it provided me.

I crawl over toward my nightstand, happy that Scribbles decided to sleep on under the bed tonight, so that I won't fall on him. I had panicked at first, not being able to find him again, but I calmed down as soon as I saw his little white paw sticking out from underneath the bed. I reach out, grabbing my alarm clock and pressing the button that brought forth the light. I read it, depressed. 11:46. "Damn it all," I growl, "I'm not tired in the least!"

I wade my way through the darkness, not even bothering to turn on the light. After all, I know this place like the back of my hand. Better even. Once I step out of my room I'm looking directly across at the wall, with the bathroom door off to the side, the carpet of the living room between us. The living room expands all the way to the wall on the right, where a large window is located with black drapes handing over it, drapes pulled shut during the night. To the right of the window, on the connecting wall, is where my large screen TV is located. It rests in the center of the wall, with built in movie racks resting on each side. Each rack is stockpiled with DVDs.

It's the movie rack I walk to.

Shit.

I forgot I don't have them in any order, not even in groups by their languages, since I have a multitude of countries' movies ranging from Japan, Korea, China, America, French, and Italian. It'll be difficult looking for a specific one, especially if I have to translate the whole movie as I watch it. How bothersome, and I'm too lazy to turn on the light all the way at the other end of the wall, by the door leading out of the apartment.

Sighing at the task before me, I crouch down, squinting and leaning as close as I could to the DVDs without hitting my head against them.

My finger runs across each case as I read the title on the spine, making sure not to lose my place. I read them off quietly to myself, changing the language I speak in with each country's movie.

"Ringu, Pirates of the Caribbean, Dead Friend, Ju-On, Kamikaze Girls, Batman Begins, Ameila, Death Note, Marrying the Mafia movies 1 through 3, Shinobi, Blues Brothers, Godfather movies, Romeo and Juliet, Azumi, House of Flying Daggers, Sweeney Todd, Battle Royale, La Strada, Death Note: The Last Name- Uh…" my finger stops on a familiar case that I haven't thought of in a while, but suddenly want to watch.

Opening the DVD player, I place the disk inside and let the machine take over. The only thing I need to do now is turn the TV on.

A bright blue glow blinds me for a moment as the TV turns on, the dark room being lit with an eerie glow. I use the light to start reading the back of the movie case, turning around to start walking toward the two-seater couch located in the center of the room directly across from the TV.

"Shit!" I say at seeing Gaara staring at me like the Grim Reaper himself, dropping the case in surprise. I take a few deep breathes to try and calm my fluttering heat. "Give me a heart attack why don't you! Why didn't you say you were there?" I gasp.

"Hn." he says without moving. He's sitting on the couch, on the cushion toward my right, but leaning in such a way so that his back is partly against the arm rest and the back rest, both of his arms slung over one or the other, his legs at a slight angle toward the other direction. He's wearing all black again, so he blends in with the room, but his skin is pale enough to see right away. The TV casts its light on his hair to make it seem like it's on fire, and his eyes appear to be glowing. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was a ghost, or a vampire.

I eye him suspiciously, looking at his mouth to see if there are any points of fang peeking through toward his lips.

_No, no, no_, I shake my head to get rid of the thought. _Not fangs. _Horns _is more like it._

"Whatever, Freeloader, move over." I say, using my eyes to direct him to how far away "over" is, which is way, way, _way, _over, as in all the way over to the other side of the apartment and out the door.

He doesn't move.

Sighing for the umpteenth time today, I use my foot to push his legs over slightly, using the newly opened area in order to sit down. My body tries to shudder at our closeness, his body so close I could touch it if I leaned toward him somewhat.

I swallow loudly, blocking the thought.

There's never been a man staying at my apartment with me. Sure, there's Sai, but he's different. He never actually _lived_ with me, he just stayed a night or two because it was what he got paid to do. But Gaara… he's gonna be with me every night, watching me in my normal "Personal" mode.

A sudden wave of warmth washes over me, but my skin is prickly cold.

"Crows Zero?" a low voice interrupts my thoughts.

I blink, turning to look over at Gaara, his face completely the same, but his eyes, partially covered by a stray wave of red hair, appear somewhat interested. I smile a bit. This is the first time he's shown me an emotion with that stoic face of his. Perhaps I should reward such humanity…

"It's about trying to conquer a school through fists and alliances, based solely on your own strength." I inform as the opening credit music plays. My teeth clench, and I'm somewhat pissed that I missed the first few minutes of the movie while I was thinking. "It stars Shun Oguri." I finish, my eyes locked on the screen as the concert of the opening credits continues.

"Shun Oguri?" he asks, his voice containing a slight hint of curiosity.

I turn my body now, staring at him fully. My jaw drops. "You don't know who Shun Oguri is?" the disbelief obviously apparent in my voice. I'm met with a blank stare. I manage to catch my mouth again enough to form words. "You should be shot."

I don't even know if I was being sarcastic.

"Why are you even up anyway? It's around midnight already." I ask after a second, the build up of silence after my last remark somewhat disturbing.

"I don't sleep." he replies simply. He's staring at the screen, he didn't even look toward me when he spoke, but I have to blink a bit and calculate if he was lying.

I can't come up with anything.

"Really?" I ask stupidly after a few moments.

"Hn." he says, though I don't really count a "hn" as speaking, and I don't know what it means. It's more of a…sound effect, but I'm going to take it as a "yes", even if it actually means "no".

Wait a minute…

I lean in closer, my torso almost touching his arm. He tenses automatically, but I ignore it. I'm staring at his eyes now, or rather, the black that lines them. It's like his lids are completely black, as well as a small portion of the area around them. So incredibly black…

My eyes widen.

"No way!" I say, my voice becoming almost excited. "It's _not _eyeliner! It's from sleep deprivation? That's so cool!" I gasp. Immediately, I realize how close I've gotten to him, my long hair trailing over his arm. He's completely uptight, tense, and ready to spring. I immediately lose all the energy I had just gained. "Sorry…" I say quietly, shifting back to my own side of the couch. I stare intently at the screen, my face probably a little flushed in embarrassment.

"You?" he asks after a while, eyes locked on the screen like my own.

"Couldn't sleep." I reply truthfully. I had slept like the dead last night, which is surprising considering all the shit that had happened, but I guess the intensity of it got to me. Tonight, however, I can't seem to fall asleep no matter what I try to do. I suppose it's a delayed form of Post Dramatic Stress Disorder.

I focus on the movie again, not wanting to think anymore.

A girl is talking to Genji, the party in the background still going on.

* * *

**GAARA'S POV**

Sakura rubs her hands against her bare arms, trying to make heat from friction. The room hasn't gotten much colder than before, maybe by three or four degrees, but not much more. Yet she must be feeling the difference, apparent by the Goosebumps dotting all across her skin, from what little she has on. Her sleeping attire consists of a pair of black extremely short shorts, and a thin dark red tank top, one that clings to her skin and shows an inch of her waistline.

She keeps adjusting, trying to find the warmest position. She gives up on trying to warm her arms, and just crosses them over her chest tightly, as though trying to force the warmth to stay with her. As she does, her breasts lift upward, showing a large amount of cleavage through her shirt. The strap on the shoulder closest to me falls down across her shoulder, the red fabric making her skin seem incredibly pale. She moves to put it back up on her shoulder, her arm shifting again. She turns toward me slightly to fix it, and I notice the two small bumps through her shirt, evidence of the cold on her breasts.

The temperature will have to be raised later.

My eyes linger on her a little longer, not wanting to leave the sight for some reason, but I turn my head, forcing them to look back at the screen, just as she looks over at me.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her shift again, one arm covering across her breasts to cover the cold, the other wrapped around her legs, now that she's brought them up on the couch, hugging them to her chest.

"Sorry." she says quietly, a small embarrassed blush making its way across her face. "I don't like sleeping with a lot of restrictions, so I use as little clothes as possible. Usually I'd sleep naked or just in a tank top and underwear…but now that you're here…" She bites her lip slightly.

"Hn." I say as a reply, not really caring about the matter. It's a perfectly natural human reaction. It's nothing to be embarrassed about.

We sit in silence for a long time, just watching the movie.

My mindless staring is interrupted by a warm pressure against my side and arm, a heaviness that wasn't there before. Blinking a few times, I lift my head from the pedestal of my clenched hand to look over at what's touching me.

_Damn cat… _I think angrily.

My eyes widen slightly, not expecting what I see.

Sakura, sitting side by side with me, her body right next to mine, her head touching my shoulder slightly.

"Too close." I growl at her, not liking the whole "touchy feely" personality she's suddenly taken on.

She doesn't move away, in fact, she seems to almost get closer. "Move." I hiss, allowing the venom filling my veins to seep into my voice.

I don't like people touching me…

I move to shove her off, sitting up more, which is almost difficult from the sideways angle I'm leaning on in the couch, and I find that I have to go on my back first in order to get up, using the arm stationed on the back rest of the couch as support.

"The hell?" I snarl, finding that Sakura has pinned me down, her body mainly between me and the couch, me almost starting to fall off. "Hey!" I growl again. "Saku-"

Her breath comes out in warm bursts, the sensation going through my shirt and onto my chest, where her mouth rests. She breathes steadily, and I can feel her heartbeat between us. She's completely relaxed, not uncomfortable at all.

No way… sleeping?

I look down at her face, her hair somewhat covering it, but I can still see clearly. Her eyes are closed gently, her lips open slightly showing me a tiny amount of her white teeth.

"Wake up." I order, using my hand to shake her, resisting the urge to give her a painful jab to the kidney. Her eyelids stir a bit, closing more tightly, then relaxing again. She closes her mouth, a small moan of discomfort coming from her as she moves slightly.

"Three seconds woman. Get off." I warn, preparing to flip her off the couch and onto the hard floor if she doesn't comply. Whether the bone in her arm has to be snapped in half or not is entirely up to her.

One…

Two…

She moves, her legs swinging toward the edge of the couch, her arms pulling her along…

"No." I growl angrily. "This is not off." My teeth are clenched, my eyes glaring, yet they do nothing against her. And now I'm in an even worse position than before…

I sigh in aggravation.

Her legs are placed over my own now, her right leg bending at the knee and pinning my knees and thigh beneath her, her left leg encasing my ankles in her grasp. Her arm, which had been at her side, has now reached across my chest, pulling me tightly to her, like some sort of animal she would sleep with.

_Damn cat… _I think again.

My neck stretches upward and to the side, trying to avoid being touched by her. It proves futile, for her hand is gripping my shoulder, and her hair brushes against me as her head rests on my chest like a pillow.

"Hn." I sound at last.

Throwing her to the ground cleanly and easily wouldn't really work in this position, and I'd get the brunt of it from her body hitting mine as she flies across the room. There'd be no way to avoid me getting most of the force from the throw. What an irritating little girl!

Slowly, I manage to pry her off of me, her giving off a sound that's more of a sleep filled whine than a moan. Adjusting her so that her legs are off of mine, and her arm is around my shoulder instead of my waist, I stand, lifting her up with me. She's still completely out of it, her head falling back limply. I throw her up slightly, bringing her head up again, and allowing my hand to reposition itself around her back, keeping her insanely long hair away from the movement of my legs, less it get tangled and cause me to lose me balance. The other is placed at the back of her knees, the most efficient way of carrying someone. Now that she's in an easily controllable position, I start walking toward her room.

_She's not nearly as heavy as I thought she would be. _I catch myself thinking as I kick open her bedroom door. I had assumed by profile that she would weigh somewhere around a hundred and thirty pounds, but now that I'm actually holding her, I'd say she weighs no more than a hundred and twenty.

I walk through the doorway and into the room, turning toward the left where her bed was located. It's a king sized, four post bed, a dark colored canopy hanging over the top of it creating a dark shadowed place beneath it.

My arms tighten as I adjust her one last time, this time to prepare to set her down. I start to walk the last few steps toward the bed, leaning forward to lay her on it.

_Damn woman… _I growl in my head.

I toss her arm off of my shoulder roughly and start lowering her onto the bed. Leaning forward, I use my toes as a pivot, but immediately feel something strange beneath me.

Before I have time to register what it is, a loud yowl emerges from under the bed, and the thing under my foot rips out from under me, slashing my leg as whatever it was springs out from the shadows.

The shock at being attacked by a white flash from under the bed is enough to make me lose my balance, Sakura suddenly fees very heavy, and I find that I'm falling forward onto the bed.

_Fucking cat! _my mind screams.

My hands brace me against the mattress, keeping my weight from landing completely on the girl, but the momentum of the fall thrusts me forward, and I my mouth crashes against hers.

I stay completely still, not moving my lips from hers, not pulling away. I'm frozen, partly from the shock of kissing her, but mostly because her eyelids start to flutter, her two emerald eyes starting to become visible.

Two emerald eyes looking directly at me…

* * *

**Sorry the ending was so crappy. I had trouble figuring out how to describe the last scene.**

***tear* I am so mean to that poor cat!**


	4. Coup d'etat

**SAKURA'S POV**

I trail my finger along the top of the steaming water, watching the ripples and designs it creates. My body slouches more, sliding beneath the hot liquid until I'm up to my neck in it. It's strange, I usually don't take baths in the early morning, only when I'm bothered by something. Perhaps I do so because the steam clears my mind, and I can think more clearly. Maybe it's what I do when I'm stressed, instead of cleaning like most girls.

Gaara…

I feel my face heat up in a deep blush at the thought of his name.

"What's wrong with you girl?" I yelp, submerging myself so that my mouth is beneath the water, using the air left in my lugs to blow bubbles against the surface in my frustration.

_It was just a dream. Just a dream. _I remind myself sternly.

Yes, last night I dreamt of my bodyguard. The stoic man who I fear and hate. It was strange; one of those dreams where you're not sure if you're actually dreaming or not, yet everything seems too surreal to be truth.

I was in my bed, like usual during the late night, and I was sleeping. Sleeping within my dream. I couldn't move, I didn't want to move, yet I was aware of everything around me. There was someone else with me, next to me, protecting me, but I couldn't open my eyes to see who it was. Yet I felt safe…peaceful. Then, an overwhelming urge to open my eyes filled me. I wanted to see the person beside me. I had tried, and found that I couldn't. I couldn't move. I had been terrified, the loss of control over my body filled me like a panic. I tried to call out, but I couldn't speak. It was like I was paralyzed, like a foreign contaminant had made me immobile. Then the dream changed drastically. I suddenly realized that I was wearing a dress. It was blue, with a long yellow skirt, and in my hair was a silk red ribbon. I don't know how it was that I knew the colors, since I couldn't see. I just…_knew._ I had seen the gown somewhere before, and that's when I remembered where.

An old cartoon movie I had loved as a child. A movie I had imagined myself being in as the star princess of the story.

Snow White.

Everything made since then. I was a princess, forced to remain in a dead sleep by a strange enchantment. A spell. I was trapped inside myself. My mind aware of everything, my soul trying to find a way out of my frozen body, but I couldn't wake up, no matter how hard I tried. I suddenly felt that what Snow White went through must have been terrifying, the ordeal unbearable. I no longer wished to be trapped inside a cold cage of flesh. I no longer wished to be such an unfortunate princess.

And then, when I couldn't stand the overwhelming despair any longer, I felt something. A warm sensation coming from somewhere, spreading through my whole body, warming my limbs like a bright sun against ice. It felt wonderful. I focused, trying to tell where the feeling was coming from, and I did. It was coming from my mouth. Something was pressing against my lips, gently. _Who?_ I had thought, and I tried to open my eyes once again to look at my savior. Then, much to my surprise, they started to open, and I was met with the most stunning eyes I've ever seen. Two pools of jade, bright and brilliant… My eyes looked more, to the face of the person. He was beautiful…

The red haired prince had awakened me from my slumber by pressing his warm lips to mine, breaking the enchantment; the curse.

I had wanted to stay like that, forever. Him kissing me, claiming me as his own. I was his, and I wanted nothing else more in the world than to belong to him, this man.

_Gaara…_ the word had filled my head with a deep sense of yearning.

_NOOOO! _I scream in my mind. _Stop it! Stop it!_

I slide completely under the water, my oxygen being cut off from me by the hot water. My hands clench into fists, and I try slamming them into my head, in order to knock some sense into me, but all I feel are light taps after the water slows down their speed.

_Who would possibly fall in love with that stoic, dense, full-of-him-self, pain-in-my-ass, freeloading bastard! _I yell at myself. _That wasn't a happily-ever-after ending! That was a nightmare! A NIGHTMARE! Damn him, trying to confuse me… No, I will not lose myself to him. I will win! He has to go! I will make him leave, no matter what!_

My mind flashes back to my dream, his soft lips pressing on my own.

"Arhh!" I scream, water filling into my lungs, bubbles filling the water as I scream out my frustration. Drowning, I feel the sudden need to breathe. I catapult through the water and into the air, the hot liquid splashing all around me and out of the tub.

That guy is ruining my life!

"Jeez!" I wail loudly to the emptiness of the bathroom.

* * *

"Stop following me." I snap angrily as I turn a corner sharply, my walking speed increasing greatly. I'm trying to lose him, to put as much distance between us as possible, but he…

"I'm not following you." he responds in a monotone, running a hand through his red hair in order to brush away a rebellious wave hanging in front of his eye.

"Oh really?" I say sarcastically, my eyes rolling in annoyance. Spinning around, I look him strait in the face, feeling a slight breeze as my skirt swooshes around me. "There's been five classes already, and you're in every class I have, and have walked with me to and from every one of those classes. I call that following. Stalker."

Gaara gives me a stern look, not backing down from what he's said. "We just happen to have the same schedule."

"Suuuuure." I growl, "You just happened to have the _exact_ same schedule as me. How'd you do that? You threaten the teachers or something?" I send him a merciless glare, my aura filling with murderous intent.

He doesn't even flinch. "I can be very persuasive."

Oh. My. God.

"You did, didn't you!? What the hell, Gaara! You can't do that!" I resist the urge to smack him. Instead, I crouch down on the floor, pressing my fingers to my temples in an attempt of soothing my growing headache, trying desperately to ignore all the stares I'm getting as the other students pass us by on their way to their next classes.

"Why the hell are you _here _anyway?" I demand, looking up at him, the sight of his black uniform engraving itself into my eyes. It's a uniform with a high collar, with a clasp off to the side keeping it closed tightly around his neck. There are buttons going up his uniformed shirt, the long black sleeves hiding some of them as he crosses his arms over his chest. On his breast pocket is a small image, a tree full of leaves, a swirling spiral like design toward its base; the school emblem.

"A Japanese teenager spends most of their time at school. If I'm to do my job, I'll need to be with you during that time. It's too risky to sneak into the school grounds every day and try to protect you from the shadows, so I had to become part of the school system. I am too young to be a teacher or administrator to the school, so I had to settle with registering as a student." he answers, glaring at me with an overwhelming authority.

"Whatever." I huff, shoving myself off of the ground and into the standing position again, "Just know that while we're here, I don't know you. _Got it?_" I snarl, stomping off down the last extension of the hallway and to my next class.

* * *

"Girls play volleyball, guys run the track." Kakashi orders loudly after roll call, his voice somewhat muffled by the white doctor's mask on his face. He says it's for his severe allergies, but everyone knows he's just making up excuses for _something_.

There are a few loud groans from the guys as they start walking of toward the track as a mass of white shirts and red sweatpants, but the girls seem to be quite content with their sport, none voicing any complaint.

"Volleyball players, pair up. There's an even amount, so I want two people to each pair only." He closes his eyes and tilts his head, obviously smiling, "Sorry girls, but one plus one does not equal three."

"Yes, sir." some of the girls respond, but most of them already starting to pair up with best friends and teammates from their after school activities, hurrying not to be stuck with the bad people of the class.

Hurrying not to be stuck with me.

I ignore them, spending my few moments of free time by using the ponytail on my wrist to tie my hair back and away from my face. Pulling my hair two different directions, I snug the band tightly to my head, completing the high ponytail. Now my hair extends down to my lower back, but out of my eyes as I move.

"Someone… please? Anyone?" a small girl asks nervously, her eyes scanning all the other girls and their partners hopefully.

My partner.

Sighing, I walk over to the cart and grab one of the volleyballs sitting on its silver rack. I tuck the ball under my arm, and start walking over toward the girl. She's becoming more desperate and listing off all the things she'll give the person who would be her partner so she wouldn't have to be with me.

She tenses, her pathetic please stopping all together as she senses me behind her. Slowly, she turns her head to look at me, her eyes filling with fear.

"H-Haruno…" she starts, probably not even having anything to finish the sentence with.

I walk past her and over to the last open net.

The other girls are already volleying back and forth to each other, their laughter and shrieks of embarrassment filling my ears. I try to ignore them, bouncing the ball up and down on my forearm with all my concentration, not wanting to be involved in their normal everyday lives. Yet I still feel it, that painful ache of jealousy.

I could have been any one of them.

I could have had friends, and teammates; a multitude of people to hang out with and do things with on the weekend. People to talk to about clothes, boys, shopping, and pointless things that they would understand. We would deal with minor problems in life; exams, breakups, gossip, and yet fret over them like they meant the world. We'd have slumber parties, and I'd get to meet their parents. Their easily worried, overly-nice mothers, their overprotective, future pushing fathers, their annoying little siblings, their older brothers that treat us like trash, yet we find them so cool, their mature older sisters gone off to college…

But I can't have that life. I'm different.

I'm not like them.

A deep resentment fills me. It grabs hold of my heart, clenching it tighter and tighter, making my anger grow even greater.

My partner is on the other side of the net, Aya something-or-another, her arms positioned, ready to receive the ball. I grit my teeth, my eyes sending a glare in her direction. I walk backward toward the serving line, my feet planting me firmly to the ground.

I look at her for a few moments.

Her hair is parted perfectly down the center, styled into two small pigtails off to each side. She holds herself shyly, her legs somewhat bent, her face hesitant and filled with worry. Her face… she wears a little bit of makeup, some eye shadow and lip gloss, but nothing more. Her gym uniform fits her nicely, the white top clinging to her enough to prove that she's a girl, even though she can't have anymore than a B bust size. The red short shorts of the uniform rest on her hips, her legs smooth and void of any scars. She's a pretty little girl I'll admit, one not full of herself or conceited, but she's taking her school life for granted.

She's taking everything for granted.

Why?

I throw the ball up into the air.

Why her and not me!?

I slam my fist down onto the ball, sending it flying with an insanely high speed. It soars over the net, slamming down onto the ground mere inches away form Aya.

"Kyaa!" she screams as the ball lands, her hands flying up in order to protect her face from anymore oncoming attacks. She starts shaking, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Haruno! Not so hard!" I hear Kakashi bellow from off to the side. I ignore him.

"Hurry and pass it back." I growl, setting an edge to my voice to warn her that she'd better hurry.

She nods quickly, rolling the ball under the net to me.

I bend down, picking it up, and return to my serving stance. Aya takes up her stance again as well, but she's much more hesitant, more ready to spring to defend herself than to return the ball.

For some reason this just pisses me off more.

I throw the ball in the air again. "Return it this time!" I scream, slamming it down with an even stronger force than before. It crashes down onto the pavement right between Aya's legs.

"No more…" she says terrified. She stumbles backward before falling on her butt, her arms keeping her from lying on her back. "No more!" she pleads, her eyes filling with tears. "Please!" They start sliding down her face, and she lifts her head in order to wail loudly into the air.

"What's wrong? Aya?" some of the girls ask full of concern, some even stopping their game in order to come over to check out the situation. "Did she hurt you?" others call.

"Aya!" a voice screams, louder than the rest. A long haired girl sprints over to her with track-star speed, kneeling beside her and placing her hands on the crying girl's shoulders. "Aya? Are you okay? Do you need the nurse?" she asks sternly.

"Yui!" Aya calls with relief at the sight of her friend, her eyes spilling over with fresh tears.

"What's going on?" a male voice demands loudly. Kakashi starts running over to the girls, kneeling besides Aya, his eyes filled with reassurance and concern, like all the others. "What happened?" he calls softly.

Aya sniffs a bit, wiping her eyes with her hand. "H-Haruno hit me with the ball."

What?

"That's bullshit." I say.

Kakashi turns toward me, fury in his eyes. He looks almost scary. "I told you not to hit so hard." he snarls. "She's just a girl!"

"It didn't touch her." I say, not understanding why Aya had lied.

Yui sends me a glare, confident I won't hurt her in front of a teacher. "Why are you such a barbarian! No wonder you have no friends, you freak!" she screams.

I clench my fists together, feeling an overwhelming desire to punch her face in.

No, no. Calm down. Calm down. Don't get so worked up over this…don't punch her…

"She's lying." I hiss, "The ball didn't even touch her." I bite my lip, hard, in order to keep my fists under control. I'm the top fighter in the school, but I don't use my fists, I use my legs. Not because I can't punch, but because I can't control my strength. If I punch the girl now I might kill her. That would be disastrous. I need to calm down…

"How can you say that!? Trying to act like you didn't do anything. We all saw you hit her with the ball!" one of the bystanders says loudly.

I send her a hateful glare. "If that's so, then why don't you all tell me where the ball supposedly hit her." The girl's eyes widen slightly, not prepared that I would catch her in her lie. Unfortunately, the look leaves almost immediately. "Her stomach."

"Yeah." others agree, feeling that they needed to back her up.

Kakashi looks face-to-face with Aya. "Do you want to go to the infirmary?" he asks smoothly. She nods her head yes steadily, slowly, trying to play the part of the injured girl perfectly. "Can you walk there by yourself?" he adds.

Aya makes to get up, but stumbles back down immediately, a loud whimper coming out of her mouth. "I-It hurts!" she cries.

Nodding in understanding, Kakashi wraps his arms around her waist and under her knees, picking her up easily. "I'll take her to the infirmary. The rest of you behave until I get back. Sakura, I expect to see you after school today to make up for your actions."

"I have plans!" I scream.

"Cancel them!" he screams back.

"You've got to be kidding! She's lying! They're all lying! Don't tell me you believe them!?" I demand, feeling betrayed. Kakashi was the one teacher that understood how I worked. He doesn't know why I do what I do, but he understands that I'm not a pathetic loser that turned delinquent in rage. I chose to be delinquent because I didn't want any friends. Yet here he is, believing the obvious lies that these girls are saying. I thought he'd know better than that.

"Don't blame us!" Yui says loudly. "You're a no-good delinquent. Why don't you just drop out and leave us alone already! You're the worst!"

This isn't my fault. This isn't my fault. This isn't my fault.

They have no idea who they're dealing with.

I'll get them for this. I'll get them. All of them.

I'll kill them all!

"Run it off Haruno." Kakashi orders seriously, noticing the dangerous change in my aura.

"What?"

"I said," he adjusts Aya in his arms, Aya who is blushing madly, Aya who has a big fat smirk on her face, "run it off." He tilts his head toward the track where the guys are running. "Rest of the class period, I want you running, jogging at the slowest. Go on."

"You can't be serious." I challenge. He just starts walking off with Aya toward the school building.

"Argh!" I yell loudly, my legs starting to move as I walk over toward the school track.

"I said run, Haruno!" Kakashi orders without even turning around to see me.

"I'm running! I'm running!"

* * *

"Well lookie who's joined us!" Kiba laughs cruelly beside me. He sprinted just to catch up to me so that he could start his usual taunts. "So, you really were a guy after all. I always had my doubts." he says with a snicker.

I say nothing, I just keep running, the feeling of my blood rushing through my muscles hypnotic, allowing me time to calm down by not allowing me time to think. My legs move fast, faster, and faster still, until soon I'm running at a full blown sprint, passing student by student at an alarming rate.

I've already ditched Kiba long ago.

There's a sound of feet hitting pavement quickly, and soon I'm partnered up with a familiar face again.

"What happened." Gaara says completely emotionless, looking strait ahead, not allowing the others to realize that he's talking to me.

I let my eyes wander over to him.

His hair sways slightly with each movement his body makes as he runs, his muscles clearly visible through his T-shirt. He seems relaxed, void of any sort of distress, like usual. The most surprising thing of all is that he doesn't seem to be sweating. His forehead is completely clear of any liquid, his breathing is steady, and he doesn't seem to be tiring in the least.

I look strait ahead again.

"Coup d'etat." I answer simply.

Gaara says nothing more, and I take it as a signal that I'm allowed to move on now. I let my legs carry me away, for they seem to have a mind of their own.

Running has always been a love of mine, even before I knew how useful it was in saving my life. The adrenaline, the ache of my muscles, the difficulty breathing, and the overall exhilarating sensation I got from moving so fast…it put me in such a dizzy state that I felt I could do anything. All I had to do was run, and I could escape anything I wanted. That's what I had always thought whenever I went for a jog. It's the one time when being a mafian princess doesn't seem to matter. On the street, I'm just a health fanatic, to my enemies, I'm an unattainable dream. And my feelings, feelings of stress, anger, sadness, hate…they all seemed to just…melt away.

I feel myself smiling as I finish my sixth lap. I've been in a full-blown sprint from the moment I started, but now I seem to be loosing some of my enthusiasm as a painful throbbing in my side nearly cripples me at the speed I was running. I slow down to a jog, and casually pass the other walking boys, who are sweating like crazy. In fact, most of them have been walking for a while now, some of them giving up totally and resting in the shadows of the trees by school building, not even ten yards away.

"Do you need to stop?" a voice asks beside me. I turn my head, startled at someone speaking to me. I'm met with a pair of onyx eyes, and a pale face crowned with a the deepest raven black I know, though the face is beaded with sweat, and flushed a pinkish red with exhaustion.

"Uchiha?" I ask confused. Why would the prestigious Sasuke Uchiha want to talk with me, the school delinquent? He's still looking at me, his eyes expectant, and I realize that he's waiting for an answer. I shake my head from side to side. "Me? Stop?" I give a mischievous smile, "Never."

A strange look crosses over the Uchiha's face, but I'm not sure what it is.

"You?" I ask in return, more out of courtesy than actual curiosity.

He gives me a smug look. "This is nothing. It'll take more than this to get m-"

"Look at that ass!" an annoying voice laughs loudly, followed by a loud wolf-call. I feel my face contort into one of irritation and distaste.

Kiba. Again.

"Hey Uchiha," Kiba calls running up to Sasuke, "I bet you want a piece of that, right? Just take her to a love hotel and she'll screw your brains out without complaint." he laughs, looking over to me and winking suggestively, before sliding between me and the Uchiha.

Not caring for his taunts any longer, I skillfully extend my leg in front of his quickly moving feet. He falls down with a loud thud and a few choice words.

I can't help but hold in a chuckle as I continue running on without him. Apparently, evident from the big smirk plastered on his face, neither can Sasuke.

Our little moment of amusement is interrupted by Kakashi's loud voice. "Bring it in! Time to go!"

* * *

I observe the female students silently.

They haven't seemed to notice that I haven't gone to my locker to change yet. Haven't noticed, or don't care. In fact, they seem to be oblivious to my position, my standing form in front of the door, blocking their only way out.

All of the girls are changing, the white shirts and red shorts of their gym uniforms being replaced with white blouses, button-up black vest with the school's insignia going over the blouse, black skirts with a red undertone on the inside of the fabric, and deep reddish maroon scarves tying around their delicate little necks in perfect bows; the school's uniform.

Perhaps I should inform them of the situation…

My hands come together in a single loud clap, and then again, and again, until I'm giving a mock applause to the females in the locker room.

Now they start turning to me.

Time for my speech.

"Well played ladies. Well played." I say truthfully, stopping my clapping. "I hadn't expected that you would all turn on me like that. In fact, I wasn't even aware that you had enough intelligence in order to launch a spur of the moment mutiny. Whatever. At least it provided some entertainment." I look at them all, one by one, making sure to send a chilling glare into each of their eyes. "Unfortunately, it appears I've gotten detention from your lies. This isn't really gonna work, you see. I had some plans arranged earlier. Now I'll have to cancel them." I make a few _tsk_ing sounds before continuing. "I'm going to have to make a call. Now, someone give me their cell phone." I give a menacing smile. "Don't worry, I won't break it. I just need to call and tell my friend what's happened." I glare at them with more hatred, "It's the least can do."

Hesitantly, the girl closest to me reaches into her pocket, bringing out a bright blue cell phone and extending it to me. I swipe it from her hands quickly, felling the cold metal numb my skin while my fingers type in the familiar number. I place it to my ear, allowing time for the ringing to stop.

"This is Sai. I am away from the phone right now. Leave a message after the beep." his voice says seriously. That guy always was too serious…

_Beep!_

"Yo, Sai. I'm sorry, but we'll have to cancel our plans for tonight. I'd tell you about why, but you're out doing…whatever it is you do. I'll be late getting home too, so don't pretend to be freaked out when I don't answer my phone. And if you come over to my apartment to check if I'm telling the truth or not, you'd better not _dare _get blood on the carpet again. You're head is mine if you do. Ciao." I say into the cell phone in my hand.

I'm not looking forward to the next conversation with Sai. He's been telling me repeatedly for the last few weeks that we had to do something today. I have no idea what it was he wanted to do, so I completely forgot about it until just a while ago. Knowing him, and his need to stick to exact plans, he'll start a huge argument.

Oh fun.

I click the button that ends the call, flipping the phone shut and handing it back to the girl. She takes it, surprised that I actually kept my word, as I walk over to my locker to get changed back into my school uniform.

* * *

**In case you didn't know, a Coup d'etat is a french word for mutiny, or where a small group of people overthrow a government or something like that. (just to let you know)**

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	5. To Fall or Not to Fall

**SAKURA'S POV**

"Didn't you bring anything to eat?" I ask through a mouthful of rice, my head turned in his direction, my eyes locking on his boredly.

Gaara turns his eyes toward mine, not moving his head at all. His arms are crossed over his chest, his body slouching in his chair with his legs extended in front of him. He's making no move to show anyone else that he notices my presence.

"You know," I point out, "Since everyone else eats during lunch, you'll be sticking out because you don't. I thought you wanted to blend in as much as you could…" I pick up another chunk of rice from my bento and shove it in my mouth, as if to prove my point.

"Hn." that damn noise comes out of his throat again.

I glare at him, somewhat pissed that he refused to answer and left me to guess what the sound means.

I jab my chopstick into the box of food again, spearing a small piece of chicken. I bring it up and away from the rest of the yet-to-be-eaten, and send my glare at it, as though it was the food's fault that my bodyguard was being such an ass.

He is sitting right next to me, in the desk to my immediate right. To the left of me is the sliding window leading to outside. If only we weren't on the third floor…

I'd shove the bastard out of the window.

Sighing, I look around.

Our school is more relaxed when it comes to restrictions, so the teachers allow us to eat in our classrooms if we don't want to eat in the cafeteria. We're allowed to use the microwaves in the FACS room to heat up our lunches, and even the refrigerators are accessible if it means keeping your food cold. That's why there are so many students in the classroom right now. In fact, I don't know anyone from my class that actually eats in the cafeteria. Instead, they came into our homeroom, sat down at various desks next to friends, and started eating their lunches. To the right by the door is where the volleyball girls eat, their laughter emitting loudly through the classroom as they talk about completely girly things. In front of me, a couple rows up toward the front of the room, is where Sasuke sits. He eats with a large crowd of people, including Kiba, and chats with them casually. To the back of the room is where the delinquents sit.

Where I sit…and now Gaara.

"So, why is it you're not eating?" I continue to question out of boredom as I shove the skewered piece of meat into my mouth, chewing only slightly before swallowing.

He stares strait ahead.

"I can go many days without eating. Why would I waste food by eating when I don't need to?" he asks, the questions more directed at himself than toward me.

My eyes drift down to my bento again.

It's a simple boxed lunch, for I'm too lazy to make the designs and figures like other people make in their lunches. I just shoved some random food into the box this morning and headed off to school. I have a corner filled with white rice, with some chopped raw vegetables stacked on top of it. In the center I have four pieces of sushi, which were leftovers from a day or two ago when I had ordered take-out, which fill the small box vertically. Too the far right are some random pieces of chicken, most of them I've already eaten, but there are still two larger pieces remaining.

I sigh again, this time in defeat.

Placing the chopsticks on top of the box, I use my arm to slide it over to the red haired fiend.

"Eat." I order him. Usually I wouldn't care whether he was eating or not, but I seem to have lost my appetite. I'm simply trying not to waste food. He stares down at what I have left, making no move to pick up the chopsticks. "It's edible," I growl at his hesitance, but he still makes no move. "Fine," I snap, sliding the bento back over to me, "be an ass."

I pick up the chopsticks again, but don't pick up the food as elegantly, I just continue to jab.

Why does he have to be such an ass! I was only trying to help him! For crying out loud! Trying to blend in? The liar. He better not yell at me if things don't go well… It's his own fault! Damn freeloader. I don't even want him in my house! Maybe I should just report him…

I chew angrily and swallow, stabbing the next awaiting piece of sushi.

"That bastard…" I hiss to myself under my breath.

I look over at him again, him in all his stoic calmness. His eyes are closed like I'm not having a mega meltdown.

The least he could do is eat the food offered of him!

Before I can even process what it is that I'm doing, I reach out, grab his jaw, and stick the chopstick with the sushi in his mouth.

Gaara tenses, his eyes snapping to me with a deadly glare. I feel the chill of it go up my spine and I shudder, but I don't back down. I slide the chopstick out of him mouth slowly, making sure the piece of food stays inside.

"It's just salmon sushi. It won't kill you." I say, trying to be as reassuring as I possibly can.

Oh please don't spit it back out at me. Oh please don't spit it back out at me…

He continues to glare, his jaw set sternly, his hands clenching the skin on his arms so tightly that I'm afraid he'll start bleeding. Well, if I was ever concerned for that bastard bleeding. Then, ever so slowly, his jaw starts moving, and he starts to chew. His glare only intensifies as he swallows, but I can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment at what just happened.

I smile.

"Oh my God!" a girl's voice says loudly.

My smile fades as I turn to where the sound of the voice came from, over by the volleyball players I assume, only to be stunned by what I see.

The entire classroom, staring at me and Gaara.

"No way! Did Haruno just feed him her bento!?" a male yells loudly, disbelief in his voice.

Kiba gets up loudly, his feet smacking hard against the floor as he rushes over to us. He slides across the floor as he tries to slow down and stop, falling just as he reaches my desk, landing with his knees on the floor, arms on the desk, hands supporting his head, eyes overrun with an evil glint, as though he had planned the whole move out.

"What's your relationship with Haruno?" he demands, looking at Gaara, completely oblivious to his threatening glare. The redhead sets his jaw, preparing to say something.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Don't you dare say anything! How am I going to explain why I need a bodyguard if you go and tell! It's not easy getting away with things as it is! I don't need them knowing about you too! Don't say you're my bodyguard!

"I'm her bo-"

"Boyfriend!" I cut off loudly.

Oh…shit.

What did I just do?

"Seriously?" Kiba asks, sarcastic doubt evident in his voice. "You mean, such a violent girl was able to land a boyfriend?"

There are whispers throughout the classroom, gossip spreading, theories being told…

"You know…now that I look at them. They do make a good couple…" a short haired girl says to the braided girl beside her.

"He looks so scary! His eyes are so piercing…like he wants to kill someone! He must be a delinquent too!" the braided girl responds quietly, too scared that she'll be overheard.

"Really?" the short haired one questions back, "I think he looks kind of hot…"

"Saya! But he's so mean looking!"

Mean looking?

My eyes shift over to look at Gaara. His body is completely rigid, his back strait, his arms shaking against his body because he's holding them so tight, his eyes shooting daggers at everyone who dares to look him in the eyes. The glare only seems to be intensified by the black insomnia rings surrounding them, making him much more vicious looking.

In a way, he kind of looks like a defensive…raccoon.

The image of a pissed off Gaara with a puffy ringed tail, furry little ears, and furry little paws enters my mind.

I hold in a small laugh, my hand covering my mouth in order to keep from exploding into giggles. It proves to be too much, and I let out a loud laugh.

Everyone looks at me, most thinking I've gone insane. I feel the presence of Gaara's accusing glare, but I can't bring myself to look at him, too afraid that if I do I'll picture him with ears. So, instead, I look to the window leading to the outside world.

"When did you meet? How long have you been dating? How far have you gone? How did your first meet?" the class starts bombarding Gaara with questions, too much involved with the latest gossip to understand the threat that the red head is to them.

Same old school kids, same old reaction.

I yawn.

The sky outside is incredibly clear, a few clouds floating by as if they hadn't a care in the world. I'm sure there are birds singing on such a nice day. If only I could hear them…

Gaara gives a threatening growl.

Looking back at him, to make sure he isn't going to kill anyone, I start to shoo the people away. Most of them depart, getting bored of the whole scene, and wander back to their desks to finish their food before the lunch period is over.

"Leave him alone already." I snarl at the few remaining students still pestering him, a dangerous edge to my voice. They gulp, knowing that I become very violet when I get irritated, so violent that I don't mind beating people to a bloody pulp in school. "You're pissing me off. Get lo-" I'm interrupted by a strange sound. The sound of glass sliding against a solid.

I look back to my left, the source of the sound.

What the hell!?

The window, which had been completely closed before, is now sliding open, all by itself. The faint breeze of outside leaks into the room, growing stronger as the window slides open more.

A black gloved hand appears from nowhere, grabbing hold of the sill strongly in a tight grip. Another hand appears in an alike fashion, until they hoist up a large body, which throws itself onto the windowsill completely, two black sandaled feet planted firmly on the wood, knees bent in order for the figure to fit into the small space, the hand repositioned against the glass of the window, pushing it completely opened.

It's a guy.

His hair is a deep black, shaggily hanging around his head, yet well groomed. It frames an extremely pale face, a face containing two expressionless dark eyes. His clothes are just as black as his hair. Black pants, black sandals, a long sleeved black shirt…

He looks down at me, his eyes closing once he sees me, a controlled smile spreading across his face.

"Hello, Ugly."

* * *

A hand flashes out, the movement catching my eye, as Gaara grabs one of the chopsticks and stealthily throws it at the teen. It soars insanely fast, the pointed end aiming right for one of the boy's dark eyes, aiming for him at a speed that seems impossible to counter.

"My, my," the boy says, the chopstick caught gracefully between two of his fingers, only a centimeter or two from reaching his still closed eye. "aren't we hasty."

Gaara goes to reach for the other one, but I place my hand on it firmly before he can get it.

"What are you doing here, Sai." I ask boredly.

I forgot to mention Sai to Gaara, so I'll have to explain the situation of the Fake Friend Scenario to him later. But for now, my stopping Gaara from killing him should be enough evidence to prove that he's not a threat. Unless the red head is more dense than I thought…

Sai jumps off of the ledge and onto the floor in a smooth motion, walking forward the few steps in order to reach my desk. He ignores the stares of the other students. They all keep their mouths shut, thinking that he's another delinquent from a different school come to pick a fight with me.

"I came to see you," he answers, fake enthusiasm in his voice.

I look at him curiously, then over to the open window.

"So you climbed the wall of the school in order to reach the third floor window," I summarize.

"Yes," he agrees, ignoring the gasps from the students.

My mouth opens to let out a sigh at his tactics, but I don't complain about them. "So, why did you want to see me?"

"Well," he says, "I got this voice message you see. It was you, telling me in less than a minute, that you had to cancel the plans that I had spent _months_ preparing," He tilts his head to the side and smiles again. "I just had this sudden urge to smash your head in a wall."

I hear a squeak from somewhere near the front. Probably Aya, or one of the girls that has gym with me…

"So what," I sigh aggravated, "we'll just do something next week."

"I refuse."

Jeez, does this guy have to stick to the plans or what!

I bite.

"So, why do we have to hang out _today,_" I hiss, grabbing the remaining chopstick and spinning it between my fingers in boredom.

"Because, Ugly, it's your birthday."

My eyes widen.

"Really?" I ask doubtfully.

"Really."

I lean sideways toward Gaara, my eyes still locked on Sai's expressionless face, trying to see if he was lying or not. I take a quick breath, "What's the date today."

"March twenty-eighth." he replies in a monotone, not even looking at me.

I nod, "Thanks." I sit up and look at Sai seriously, "So it is."

He looks at me like a statue, his smile completely gone. "You forgot."

"I forgot. Stuff…" I glance at Gaara quickly, "happened…" I press my hand to my forehead and sigh, "It doesn't matter anyway. I can't go. I got detention today."

"Skip it." Sai instructs.

"Wha-" I yelp as my purchased friend grabs my wrist, lifting me out of my chair and dragging me toward the window. "You can't be serious!? At least take the stairs, damnit!"

"Why? This way is faster?" he replies obliviously. Wrapping his arm tightly around my hips , he hoists me onto his shoulder. I give a distasteful groan of protest, but refrain from hitting him since he was nice enough to keep my skirt plastered to my skin so that I don't flash everyone in the classroom. "I'll be taking her for today, Mr. Protector," he smiles at Gaara, who bolts out of his chair in an attempt to tackle him.

"Gaara, stay!" I order, much like one would a dog. He freezes, a snarl coming out of his throat. "It's okay, Sai's a professional." I inform wile trying to give him my best reassuring smile. "Really, I'll be fine. Sai can take on anyone." I glance toward the chopstick, which Sai stealthily placed on my desk before anyone could notice, as proof of how well trained he is. Gaara seems to understand this too, and sits back down.

"Let's go, Ugly." Sai smiles as he jumps to the window.

"You fucker," I hiss, knowing that the fall is probably going to make me throw up my lunch. "This better be worth it."

With that said, Sai leaps out the window, and we fall to the world down below.

* * *

**Yeah, I know, this chapter is a little...weird.**

**Anyway, Read and Review!**


	6. The Unexpected Guests

**HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE! Thought I would update this one as a present to you all. I may be able to update it again tomorrow, but I can't promise anything. Keep your fingers crossed!**

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"You have absolutely no fucking _idea_ how awkward this feels!" I hiss through my teeth at Sai, who's busily keeping his eyes on the road as he guides the steering wheel of the silver convertible with ease. I cross my legs self consciously, trying to make the skirt of my _ridiculously_ short black dress even a _little_ bit longer. My eyes give a threatening glare to the material once I realize that the movement only made the fabric recede further up my thigh.

"I'm positive it's not that bad. Even if it were, it at least makes you seem a little less ugly." he responds along with a fake smile.

"How about _you_ wear the dress, and _I_ drive!" I snarl, much more harshly than I would have expected, but hey… it's what he gets for forcing me to wear such a…a…

A stripper dress.

Oh God, I'm wearing a stripper dress! What a _marvelous_ birthday this is turning out to be! I don't even _like_ wearing dresses, and can barely handle wearing the skirt of my school uniform! Yet here I am, wearing a tiny black dress with absolutely no back, with a length that only covers two and a half inches of my thighs _at most_, no straps, no behind the neck tie, just an _extremely_ low dipping neck line, and the lovely reminder that the only thing keeping this monstrosity on me is the fact that my extremely large breasts are enough to fill out the chest portion of the tight dress. I will never think of getting a boob reduction again!

My face heats up in both embarrassment and incredibly pissed-off-ness.

I glare over at Sai again, his hair being blown casually by the rushing wind coming over the top of the convertible, almost invisible against the dark blue of the night sky. The lucky bastard is wearing a black long-sleeved silk dress shirt of name brand origin. His legs are covered completely by what appears to be the bottom portion of a tuxedo, and he has the joy of wearing comfortable black dress shoes. _I _on the other hand…

I send a vicious glare down at the Evil-Stilettos-of-Doom.

They're a glossy black open toed flip-flop like shoe, with a Greek styled tie up going on. It took me nearly twenty minutes just to lace the damn ribbons up. They're crisscrossing all the way around my legs and up to my knee. In fact, _I_ didn't even lace them up! I spent so long trying to figure out how to tie them up right that Sai just waltzed over probably thinking "The hell with it!" and laced them up for me! They're much more stress-inducing than any other shoe I own, but I have to say…they're quite sexy. In fact, it's thanks to the shoes that the dress doesn't look quite as much like it belongs to a porn star, as it does to make it seem like the dress is a stunning form of fashion expression. I might even decide to wear the shoes again. Well, if it wasn't for the five inch heel the width of a toothpick that was probably going to kill me… then I probably would.

Probably not.

I find myself slouching down in the seat, the seatbelt sliding tightly in the space between my breasts, but I ignore it. Instead, I put all of my focus into my fingers, which are combing through the spiraled ringlets of my pink hair. It was the one thing about myself that I actually got to control tonight.

Just letting my hair hang down like I usually did only made me look more like a spoiled whore in this dress, so I had spent at least an hour and a half with the curler in order to form my pink tresses into large and perfect spiraling ringlets. I had all my hair shifted off toward the right side of my head, sort of in a low hanging side ponytail, but I used my hair to tie itself up, so my pink locks only hung down to the base of my breasts, and not all the way down to my lower back.

I let out a depressed huff.

Today has been so shitty, what with Gaara, school, Sai, this dress, this whole ordeal of my birthday.

I can only imagine that it is going to get worse.

"Don't cry. You'll ruin your makeup." Sai orders in that monotone of his.

I bite my lip, tasting the terrible taste of lipstick, in order to keep the water forming in my eyes to stay there. Should they spill over, my mascara will run.

"Don't worry," Sai said, as though reading my mind, his eyes still locked on the road, "I used waterproof." Now he looks at me, and he gives me another of his fake smiles, as though to reassure me. "But still, if you start crying, your eyes will get all red and puffy, and you'll become an ugly monster." he adds thoughtfully.

"Oh thanks!" I say sarcastically, a slight hiccup to my voice. It's true, Sai had been the one to do my makeup. He's extremely good at it, much more than I could ever be, but I suppose a makeup brush and a paint brush are alike in the basic of ways, so there should have been no doubt in my mind he would be a natural, what with his favorite pastime being to paint. "I'll make sure not to ruin all your hard work!" I say as a mock promise.

Our pathetic conversation is cut short when Sai turns the steering wheel sharply to make a left turn, and parks the car.

"We're here." he announces a few seconds too late. He unclasps his seatbelt and opens his door. He steps out into the night air, the sound of him walking on the grass fills the silence of the world around us. I unbuckle myself quickly, just as Sai makes his way around the convertible and opens to passenger door for me. Tilting his head and giving me a blindingly fake smile with closed eyes, he holds out his hand.

I stare at it for a second, not really believing that he was being so formal with me, but after a moment, I'm shocked to find my own manicured hand reaching out and clasping his gently. He closes his own around mine, and lets me use him as a support as I lift myself out of the car and into the starry world around us.

"This way." Sai says informatively. He pulls me along a small, almost nonexistent, path, the dewed grass tickling my feet with a slightly wet sensation as we walk.

I allow myself to look around.

It's a beautiful night tonight. The wind is only a calm wisp of air, the temperature is warm, yet cool enough to know that it's night, and the stars…

How could I forget the stars!?

They fill up the night sky like precious sparking gems, and in such a multitude that it feels like someone spilt a glitter shaker all across the sky. Some are brighter than others, some of them dull and acting as assistants in showing how bright the others are, but all of them combine to make a glorious sea of beauty.

I find myself smiling.

I guess this isn't such a bad birthday after all.

"Happy birthday, Ugly." Sai says.

I'm pulled out of my trance and stare at what's directly in front of my face.

"Sai!" I gasp, "I didn't know you were such a romantic!"

Before us is a candle lit dinner. It's only a borrowed picnic table with a red table cloth covering it, with two lit candles dancing wildly in the slight breeze. I take in the nostalgic scent of some sort of authentic Italian pasta, not the fake crap that the serve at the diner down the street from my apartment, but _actual Italian food! _All of which is canopied by the most beautiful Weeping Willow I have ever seen!

"I love you!" I yell happily as I turn around and lunge at my brilliant fake friend, my arms encasing him in a tight hug. "I always thought you were just a penis obsessed bastard, but I take it back! I take it all back!" I confess.

"Whatever." he replies, completely unfazed by my extremely uncharacteristic act of girlishness. "Let's eat."

I nod excitedly, releasing him from my grasp, hardly able to wait for the great smelling food to be tasted by my tongue.

"Seriously though, did this really take you _months_ to plan." I'll admit, it's extravagant, but it's not _that _extravagant.

He says nothing, and we end up reaching the table in silence.

A wave of confusion washes over me.

There's only two people here, me and Sai…yet… why are there four plates?

"Sai?" I ask uncertain. He doesn't answer me, he just turns to the trunk of the Willow. "Is someone there?" I demand, turning toward the trunk as well.

Without a moment of hesitance, two figures appear from out of the shadow of the tree.

I feel my heart flutter for a moment, denial washing over me and screaming in my head repeatedly _It's not possible! It's not possible!_

Yet there they were…right in front of me…

The boy was wearing equivalent attire to Sai's, only this boy is wearing a white shirt, not a black one. He says nothing, but beautiful blonde teen dressed in a purple designer silken gown, that was running on the market for nearly $7,000, opens her mouth to speak. "Glad to see you grew into your forehead, Forehead."

* * *

"Ino…?" I breathe, my voice catching in my throat. There was no doubt about it, this stunning blonde was my old childhood friend and rival, Ino Yamanaka. Daughter of the infamous Inoichi Yamanaka, the boss a well known yakuza family, who was accepted into the Italian mafia by marrying the daughter of an ally of my family, Giovanni.

_No way! No way! No way! There is no way Ino of Italy is here! There is absolutely no way that the could come to Japan just for my birthday! _

She lets her mouth curve into a seductive smirk, one that would make any man swoon as long as they could actually feel, which is why Sai is immune. Her baby blue eyes, inherited from her mother, shine with a mischievous glow. She stays like this for a second, as though she were planning something, but a moment later she allows her smirk to grow into a big grin.

"Long time no see!" she says excitedly, her voice overflowing with girlishness. She turns to the blonde boy next to her, a slightly irritated look on her face. "Say something, idiot! You look like a moron just standing there!" She shoves him forward, the boy stumbling gracelessly and nearly falling.

"L-Long time no see…Sakura…" he stutters with a mad blush on his face, his ocean blue eyes looking to the side in embarrassment.

"Gah!" Ino shrieks in annoyance, "What a terrible little brother you are!"

No way!

"Naruto!?" I shout, the shock of his identity apparent in my voice.

The little goofball that I had grown up with, the wild, out-of-control prankster that made me go home on multiple occasions crying because he had teased me… _that_ _was_ _him_! It's not possible. Where did all of his confidence go? Where did all of his smartalec remarks, his inappropriate behavior, his annoying traits… WHERE DID THEY GO!

Ino lets out a loud sigh. "Good God, man. Pull yourself together. She thinks you went weak on her." she presses a hand to her forehead tiredly, as though this was a usual occurrence with her adopted little brother, one that was wearing her down.

"She does not!" he looks over to me with a pleading in his eyes, "Do you?" he asks quietly, a tremble in his voice, a small blush still apparent on his tan face.

"You're telling me that that bratty little annoying _prick _turned into this shy teen!?" I demand, needing answers before my mind exploded. "What happened to you!" I beg of him.

Was there an accident? Was he hurt? Was he mentally wounded?

"You happened." Ino says exasperated.

"What?" I ask, a very oblivious question.

The blonde girl waves her hand in my direction, her other arm crossing over her chest to allow her hand to rest on her elbow as she pointed at me. "_Believe me_, he's still the annoying idiot he always was, even worse now that he's hit puberty, but once he gets a look at a girl with huge breasts and a pretty face, his confidence turns to jelly and Naruto the Ass becomes Naruto the shy," she finishes, giving her little brother a poke in the side, to which he shrieks like a little girl and jumps up slightly.

I allow myself to laugh a little.

"You really are still a goof, aren't you." I state. He looks up at me the moment the words leave my mouth, and allows his own mouth to change into the goofiest grin I have ever seen him give, as though to prove the point.

"So," I say teasingly, taking a slow spin to give him a view of me completely, no longer seeming to be embarrassed by my skimpy dress, "you think I'm hot?"

"Yes!" he blurts out loudly, he immediately realizes what he just said, and uses his hand to scratch the back of his head as he looks away innocently, "I mean… yeah you… turned out to be really pretty… Sakura…"

Oh, God! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY IDIOT!?

"I see." Sai says suddenly. I jump slightly. I had forgot Sai was even here! "It appears that he has no dick." he continues, his hand on his chin as he nods his head once in understanding.

"What was that!" Naruto bellows, an incredibly pissed off look of fury in his eyes, a small blush of embarrassment on his face at the insulting comment. His fists are clenched tightly, shaking in his anger, his lip being bitten in a failed attempt to calm himself.

I sigh.

"Really Sai, do you have to insult _all_ my friends?" Now I'm the one that puts my hand to my forehead, the overwhelming repetitive irritation of this scenario making me incredibly tired. "Anyway," I continue, my stomach giving a slight rumble, "I think we should eat before the food gets cold."

* * *

"So, Ino, anything exciting happen to you over our years of separation?" I ask as I swirl the wine in my glass around slightly, allowing myself to take a small sniff of the scent of the alcoholic beverage before I took a small, slow, sip.

"Well…" Ino said, feigning being in deep thought. I could always tell when she was faking trying to contemplate something. I guess I always thought of her as too much of an airhead to actually think anything completely through. She looks back at me, a happy smile on her face, her hand extended for me. That's when I see it, the large gemmed ring on her finger. "I'm getting married!" she squeals excitedly.

I choke on the liquid in my mouth and erupt into a small fit of coughing.

"What!? You're only sixteen! You're only as old as I am!" I say in shock.

She pulls her hand back and examines the big diamond on her finger lovingly. "Yeah," she starts, "but he was so sweet, and caring, and chivalrous, and _rich_." She sighs contently.

I take another sip of my wine, this time to down the shock.

"She's been obsessing over him since the moment he proposed to her. They hadn't even been dating more than a month." Naruto informs me somewhat annoyed. He was an irrational person himself, but sometimes even his sister could be more irrational than he could, especially when it came to love.

"Oh?" I say, raising an eyebrow, "What's his name?"

Ino clasps her hands together under her chin, her eyes getting all dreamy and directed toward the stars.

"Leonardo L'amoureux!" she breathes, his name rolling off her tongue like it belonged to a prince in a fairy tale. "His father is French, but his mother is Italian. He's the only son and heir to an extremely wealthy import and trading company."

"Leonardo, huh? So, you're marrying a ninja turtle. Lucky." I say playfully. The truth is I could care less what family he came from, or how wealthy he is, or that he's the heir to a large company. All I care about is the fact that he makes my friend happy.

Ino lets out a startled gasp. "He is not a turtle! How can you say that!? He's the most hansom man I've ever met!"

I suppress a loud sigh.

She's never head of the Ninja Turtles? What a deprived child…

"Anyway," I interrupt Ino's depressed meltdown. She appears to think that I told her that her fiancé looks like a turtle… "This was really sweet of you, coming all the way to Japan for my birthday. It was a great gift, really." I look at them both with my most innocent and thankful of looks as I finish off my glass of wine.

"Yeah, well, it was all thanks to Sai. He's the one that arranged everything. If it wasn't for him, we probably wouldn't have been able to come." Naruto starts, speaking loudly.

Sai?

I turn to the emotionless boy, who is sitting directly to my right, lean in, and press my lips to his cheek. I hover there for about three seconds before pulling away. "Thanks you very much Sai. You inviting them was the best present I could get. You're amazing, and the wine was great.

Sai looks at me now, an unreadable expression on his face. "Arranging our meeting was not my gift to you, rather it was the wine. There is a whole crate of it already at your apartment, a total of five bottles."

"Really?" I ask surprised, "What kind of wine was it?" I inquire, picking up my empty wine glass and sniffing it again to try and see if I could identify it. Nothing about it was ringing any bells.

Sai tilts his head to the side again, closing his eyes, and letting a fake smile cover his face, "Château Pétrus 1946. The entire purchase cost $536,737.65.

"Are you shitting me!?" I scream, standing up quickly and slamming my hands down on the table next to the empty dishes that used to hold my food, "How could you spend half a million dollars on my birthday present! Are you crazy!"

I think I hear Ino mumble something about wanting someone to spend that much on her birthday present, but I ignore her.

"If you feel that bad about it," Sai starts, reaching out his hand with his palm facing me, "You could just pay me $536,737.65 and you wouldn't have to feel bad."

What!?

"I don't have that kind of money!" I scream.

Sai merely shrugs and stands up, getting ready to leave.

"What did your uncle give you? Was it sparkly? I bet it was a diamond necklace. He seems like the type to do that." Ino begs to know as she hands her dirty dishes to Naruto, who stacks them in a basket that was used to bring all the food here in the first place. "I bet you made a fuss over it like you usually do, but deep down I bet you love it!"

I feel a grimace makes its way across my face.

"Not in the least! God, I wish he wouldn't have given me anything and just left me alone! But no, he went and hired me a bodyguard!" I wail, my hands placed on my hips angrily as I glare furiously at nothing in particular.

"Really!?" Naruto demands, standing right next to me now, "Is he cool? Is he a ninja? I bet he's a ninja! I _so_ want to meet him! I've never met a ninja!" the blonde rambles on.

"Is he hot!?" Ino demands suddenly.

Hot?

"Gaara? _Please! _All he is, is an annoying freeloader that's just a pain in my ass. He's completely useless. He even killed a man in my apartment! I wish he would just disappear already! Bodyguard? Are you shitting me? Assassin is more like it! He's not even the least bit nice! He's cruel and mean, with absolutely no character or personality whatsoever! He's socially retarded and is just a stoic loser! He's an ass to me at school, and is the biggest _creep_ I've ever met! He's probably a pervert too…" I hiss loudly, malice coating every word.

I feel my face heat up in anger as I start remembering all the shit he pulled on me at my apartment only a few nights ago.

"You really don't like him, do you?" Naruto observes finally.

"I absolutely _detest _him!" I growl as I turn around and take a couple of steps away form the table and toward Sai's convertible.

Jeez! Why did the conversation have to go to Gaara! Everything was perfectly fine until that bastard was brought up! THAT MAN IS RUINING MY LIFE!

"Stupid fire breathing, couch stealing, freeloading, redheaded bastard…" I grumble under my breath, the heels of my stilettos sinking slightly in the damp mud of the earth as I pass the trunk of the Weeping Willow and enter a shadow cast by a large branch from overhead. "He should just drown. Maybe then I'll be free once and for all of-"

My angry ramblings are interrupted by a large animal jumping down from the Weeping Willow from somewhere high above me. It flips in the air and lands in the mud with its feet planted firmly on the ground, its jaw set sternly, its terrifying green eyes sending out a threatening feral glare, its red fur hanging shaggily around its head.

This animal before me just had to be-

"Gaara!"

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**Yes, I made Naruto and Ino related (but by adoption people, in case you MISSED that little fact) ...please don't kill me...**

**Gaara, Gaara, Gaara, Gaara, the crap have her say about you behind your back... I AM TRULY EVIL! MWUHAHAHA!**

**Yeah, there actually IS such a wine as that (I looked it up, hehe) it's supposed to be one of the most expensive wines in the world and runs at aout $100,000 per bottle.**

**Read and Review please! (believe me, I write faster when that happens) HAPPY EASTER! MAY THE BUNNY FAVOR YOU WELL!**


	7. Alice

**I know it's been FOREVER since I updated, but I was just in the mood to write. Unfortunately, this may not be the story you wanted me to update. Because of this, I am going to tell everyone reading this where I stand at the moment.**

**I have the first two pages of the next chapter of ICF started, I also have the majority of the next chapter of WTE done. **

**Ghost Hunt is currently on hold because I have yet to decide how I want that story to go. I know the ending, but everything in between is amuck. Please be aware that I may be revising the CRAP out of that one.**

**LWW is on the uppermost of my priority list, I just need to revise a FEW little things in there (you'll barely notice them)**

**Everything else has yet to be started.**

**Please enjoy this chapter, I myself really enjoyed writing it (ESPECIALLY the Alice references. Those were extremely fun to write XD)

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The first thing I do when I get home is run strait to my room, lock the door, and strip.

The stilettos come off quite easily. The ribbon crisscrossing up my leg is silk, so it slides undone with the slightest of tugs. The heels are left to lay awkwardly on the floor; a lethal weapon to any unsuspecting feet that dared to walk within my room. It feels nice to free my sore feet from those pain-inducing devices, so I take a moment to wallow in the feel of the carpet against my aching arches. The dress is a little more difficult; the corset like ties in the lower back section not wanting to unknot. I struggle, reaching behind me blindly and crazed, desperate to get the damn thing off of me. With no sign of budging, I look around wildly for a scissors, or a knife, or any sort of sharp object that would help me with my problem. Even a nail clippers would work! Sensing my violent temperament, the strings behind me loosen, and before I can even move to cover myself, the dress has slid down my body, following my curves, and landing in a circular heap of fabric on my carpet.

I stare at my distant self; the reflection of me appearing in the large mirror above my dresser.

Her hair is a mess; the leftovers of a was-to-be good day. The side ponytail still remains, though it's falling out of the band, and the spiraling ringlets are curling around in an uncontrollable wave. Her makeup is gone, worn away with wear as well as the fact that she was scrubbing at it all night long. She never was one to like being a doll. All that remains of it is a thin line of eyeliner, making her eyes pop out, and a small amount of eye shadow, though I'm too tired to make out what color it's supposed to be.

Her body is pale, cold, with Goosebumps running across her frozen skin. She shows no feeling or care that her torso is completely exposed, her breasts in full view of the greedy, lustful eyes of those behind the glass of the mirror. She's wearing nothing except her skin and black lacy underwear that kept her dress as PG-13 rated as possible.

An Alice trapped in her own world of backwardness.

I leave her to her world of fantasies, making my way toward my big, soft, comfy bed. Sleep sounds extremely good right now. I won't waste my time thinking about the nightmares of other people and their strange and terrifying worlds tonight…

Exhaustion overcomes me before I can even make it onto the bed properly, so I find myself falling onto the large mattress, my body sinking into its motherly feeling.

I want to do something, mean something, be something, but I can't.

I can't talk. I can't think. I could hardly even walk up here, making me stumble and crawl my way through the door. All I want to do is sleep, to never wake up, to end this day once and for all.

Shutting my eyes, I am dawned with the horrifying realization that I cannot fall asleep. My body will not move from exhaustion, my eyes are willing to obey my commands, but my mind will not turn off. My brain just keeps thinking about everything and nothing at a thousand miles per hour, but mostly about the events of today. The terrible, horrible, amazingly brutal events of today.

Embarrassment, Anger, Rage, Love, Happiness, Sadness, Loathing, Guilt, Denial, Peace, Fear…

All the emotions run through my head at hyper speed, making my eyes see colors in the black, and black within the pure white. Everything is backwards, forwards, messed up, inside, outside, around, in between… I am Alice, trapped in the fantasy world of my mind. Logic does not work here, senses run amuck; fire burns cold, and anger screams blue. This is the land of all things backward.

A land of mirrors; the Mirror World.

Sakura in Mirror World. A girl cursed with the same fate as poor, innocent Alice.

Somehow I regain control over my limp, comatose body. I shove myself up with my arms, and reach for a random pillow in front of me. I grab it angrily, my emotions rushing over and out of my body.

I bring the soft thing to my face, pressing it there tightly…

And scream.

* * *

My emotions have been screamed out of me, the mess of my mind calmed. Now all I have is anger, anger and something else that I can't quite place.

I bite my lip to keep from swearing my head off, my heart fluttering in some unknown feeling. It's like a reunion of the two worlds. Anger and something calmer, something sane. Well, sanity is only insanity from a different point of view. Eventually, insanity will be labeled the winner over what was once sane.

With that lovely thought, I decide that it would be best if I vented my anger out through writing before I went and offed some poor unlucky bastard.

This, of course, does not include Gaara.

Reaching for the pillow furthest to the left, I send my hand in through the open side of the pillowcase and reach underneath the feather filled sack.

There!

Grabbing the much needed object I desire, I roll to the nightstand and grab a random pen, and start writing.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm going to die._

_No question about it. I'm dead. Finished. Done for. Finito!_

_Gaara._

_He had just stared at me after appearing before me, though a terrifying "I'm killing you with my eyes" glare probably describes it better. He should have at least been upfront about being there and not hiding like a coward in the fucking tree! What a party crasher. DID I GIVE HIM AN INVITATION!? No! In fact, I think I specifically told him to leave me with Sai; that Sai would take care of me!_

_What is he, a workaholic or something?_

_And he heard everything I was saying, all of my private resentments toward him… Those are my own thoughts! _

_I had expected him to lunge and strangle me to death, or cut me to little pieces and feed me to stray dogs, or tie a weight to my legs and drop me into the bay or something, or at least kill me, but no. He just stood there all stoic and glaring. He didn't say anything. He didn't even ask for an apology. He made me more scared by NOT doing anything than by actually ripping my throat out._

_He's planning to do it._

_I can feel it._

_While I'm sleeping, or when I'm out by myself, he'll definitely do it. He seems like a man who doesn't let wounds to his pride go unavenged, so it's a fact that he'll come after me…and kill me in a slow…painful…agonizing death._

_So if he's going to kill me anyway, I may as well embarass the hell out of him right!?_

_That's what I thought, but then his attitude only made me more scared to do so; cold, serious, calculating, a deadly intent -toward me in particular- and such._

_It was only worse on the drive back, too! Ino and Naruto had their own car, so they left me alone with Sai and HIM!_

_I take back every nice thing I have ever said about Sai. HE IS A PENIS OBSESSED BASTARD THAT NEEDS A SERIOUS MEETING WITH MY FIST! I had been so relived that Sai was with us (I have this strange and unfounded notion that Sai would try to save me from the redheaded dragon) He would be driving the car, and I would simply sit in the front seat, leaving Gaara all by himself in the back with my presents. Of course, he would probably try to strangle me with ribbon from behind. _

_BUT NO!_

_Sai was the biggest dick in the history of dicks and made me Sit. In. The. Back! He didn't tell Gaara to sit in the front, Gaara didn't move to the front, and all the presents I had decided to keep were also in the back, leaving the only open space barely able for two people to sit together. RIGHT next to each other!_

_It was horrible! I had scrambled to get the seat by the door so if all else failed I could fling myself out over the side and roll to safety. BUT NO! That fucking bastard got there first! WHAT ABOUT CHIVALRY! So I had to crawl over him, the humiliation! My stupid stiletto heel got stuck in the crevice between the floor and the front seat so I started falling. I would rather have face planted into a spear than what happened next! I landed right on Gaara! IN HIS LAP! It was an awkward fall, I still don't even know how it was possible for me to land that way, but I straddled his lap, my arms were on the sides of his head, my boobs were crushing into his chest, and my face was so close to his we almost touched!_

_And my skirt slid up!_

_If Sai hadn't known better he would have probably thought that I was giving that stoic ass a lap dance!_

_Luckily Gaara wasn't a barbarian, and he didn't even get turned on by the position. His eyes were as cold and unmoving as ever, his face giving no emotion, and I was grateful that I didn't feel anything like an erection from his pants (this adding to my theory that he is gay. Even seeing me in my underwear, nipping out, and probably seeing me naked, or doing something strange doesn't seem to make him act like he's horny. I'm grateful, yes, but it huts a girl's feelings when you are so clearly unflattering)_

_Unfortunately, it was so cramped in the back seat that I was half sitting on Gaara. The stupid boxes were painfully jabbing into my back, but I still leaned as far away from the creep as I could. Even worse, Gaara's arm was plastered between us, and it must have been an "inconvenience" for him (since he apparently doesn't feel pain even though I "accidentally" stomped on his food with my stilettos…) so he wrapped his arm around ME! (though technically most of it was on the seat, but still!) His hand was hanging down by my thraot and I couldn't help but think he was storing hidden knives somewhere in his sleeve and was just waiting to slice my jugular clean open! I was too scared to move, too afraid that any twitch would piss him off just enough to do it!_

_And knowing Sai, any blood in his car would earn me the unfortunate justice of him desecrating my grave in revenge… (boys and their toys)_

_But then again..._

_Even with Gaara being the scary ass he is, it was still a good birthday._

_After the meal we (sadly this included Gaara) drove to a warehouse. I was extremely confused (I mean, what person who has people after their life wants to go to a dark, abandoned warehouse at night?) and then I saw that it was completely filled with insanely expensive objects._

_For me!_

_IT PISSED ME OFF!_

_I mean, I'm laying low, trying to keep people from noticing that I pay my bills without a job, and that's really hard to do when you're given A RED FERARRI! Not to mention the diamond jewelry (damn Ino and her accuracy) the fucking PONY! (Scribbles would not like that at ALL) and a fucking YACHT! WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA DO WITH A YACHT! Seriously, I wish that damn uncle of mine would THINK before buying and sending._

_But…_

_There was one…_

_It was covered in a big cloth. Bored, I threw it off and gazed down at SEX!_

_A sleek and shiny Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14r!_

_She was gorgeous! Unmarred and perfect! She was the dark beauty I always dreamed about riding through the night! Onyx black, a color so deep and rich that it had no choice but to be sexy! Her frame was smooth, and perfectly made! The wheels were new and virgins of the road! And (to my great amusement) there was a design of two luscious red cherries connected by a stem located on the chromed material right next to the seat!_

_It couldn't have been any better!_

_Then Naruto had the nerve to say, "It's just a bike."_

_I COULD HAVE PUNCHED HIM!_

_The Kawasaki ZX-14r is the fastest, sexiest, most badass god on the market! HOW DARE HE SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO MY CHERRY! (the name just stuck…) She can go 0 to 60 miles per hour in less than three seconds! SHE CAN REACH SPEEDS UP TP 186 MILES PER HOUR (and even higher, in the 200s, if the limiter is removed) I SHOULD HAVE SMACKED HIM RIGHT THERE FOR SAYINS SUCH AN INSULTING UNDERSTATEMENT ABOUT MY SIX SPEED GODDESS!_

_So I screamed at him."Are you out of your fucking mind!?" I said, "The Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14r is solidified SEX! Even YOU could get a girlfriend if you just had one of these!"_

_I must have looked like an idiot, crouching there in front of Cherry, running my hands over the cold surface of her, examining her like an obsessed lover. She was calling to me! Begging me to ride her, to unleash the glory that she had built up in her! So, even though she was obviously expensive, attention drawing, and "I'm a rich girl" saying, I kept her._

_She's in my assigned garage right now (not that I've ever used it, it is just for emergencies if I have to stash something away for a couple days) and it nearly killed me to keep her off the streets._

_As much as the fucking redhead ruined my day, Cherry made up for it, TEN FOLD! But I'm still not going to forgive him. I'll get him back for what he did. I'll make sure of it. Only this time I'll embarrass him beyond what his pride can bear! TAKE THAT YOU REDHEADED BASTARD!_

* * *

Now that I had finished my entry for today, I proceed to the page right next to it, and start doodling an amusing little picture.

The pen moves in my hand with smooth, practiced, motions. I've become extremely good at drawing since I've done it so many times. I've drawn some sort of doodle, or picture, or portrait every single day, upholding the promise I made to my uncle as a child. Sure, he's an ass at times and I hate him for putting me through constant trauma, but I'm a girl of my word. It's only natural that I'd follow through, and now that he's given me Cherry, it's only natural that I thank him for her.

The picture is nothing serious or beautiful. It is a simple cartoon, like the many animations that surround me. I only have a dark blue pen at the moment, and I'm too lazy to find an assortment of colors to choose from, so for now, the drawing is all in blue. Though, by how much I'm liking the way it's turning out, I may have to go back and color it in. It consists of me, in chibi form -my hair flying black wildly behind me- with a pure evil look on my face. It was a kind of face that said "DIE, MOTHER FUCKER! DIE!" Eyes possessed, mouth open in a twisted wide smile, the usual… I'm riding Cherry, and I managed to show how sexy she is even when in cartoon form, while doing a wheelie. I have it so that I'm coming down from the move, my Kawasaki Ninja coming in for a killer landing a mere foot off the ground. The part that makes it so amusing is the fact that directly under where the bike's wheel is going to land, is a terrified Gaara. Of course, I have him with a raccoon tale and ears, and a sharp little tooth exposed as he reaches up to protect himself from the heavy thing about to crush him. Tears are rushing out of his eyes -off to the sides of him- in a waterfall. I draw a few slants for a terrified blush before adding a little word bubble right next to him. Inside, I write in big, bold letters, "KYAAAAA!" Liking how girly and pathetic Gaara looks as a raccoon chibi, I add a word bubble by me too, only this time the big bold words are saying, "MWUHAHAHAHAHA!"

I contemplate drawing flames around me and Cherry, but decide against it. Doing so would be over dramatizing everything… So I compromise by adding flames into my eyes, evidence of my burning madness and rage.

I let out a laugh at the finished product.

My heart seems to get lighter after I've let go of my stress. Venting my emotions in my diary is probably why I haven't snapped and punched anyone yet. Writing it down means I'm _technically _talking about what's bothering me. It's better than keeping it pent up inside. The longer you do that, the more randomly your emotions will get a hold of you. Who knows, if I didn't vent, maybe I really would do a wheelie on Gaara.

I smile at the thought.

Now I sigh.

No, I couldn't do that to my precious Cherry. It would be too difficult to get all of the blood off of her. Plus there's the prospect of her getting scratched. Knowing Gaara, he'd attack with everything he had to keep himself alive. Though I have to say, him as a chibi is actually _very_ adorable.

My eyes widen in realization.

What a wonderful idea…

What a wonderfully embarrassing idea…

* * *

**IF YOU HAVE NOT HEARD OF THE KAWASAKI NINJA ZX-14r GO LOOK IT UP RIGHT NOW!**

**That is all.**


	8. An Invasion of Privacy

**_AS MY LAST ACT OF TRUE FREEDOM BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW, I HAVE UPDATED THIS!_**

**_Be aware people, that school is very important, and affects the rest of my life by how good I do in it. I will be starting another year of seriousness and studying._**

**_So it's only natural that I will be updating much, much, much faster in order to escape it! ^_^_**

**_I would just like to congratulate Black-Blue Moonlight Neko for guessing correctly! (others may have figured it out but BBMN was the only one to say it out loud) COOKIE FOR YOU! *gives you giant cookie*_**

**_(Thank you Kallou for pointing out that little mistake. I was actually going to finish the train of thought, but I wrote that part cuz I knew how it was going to go, then I jumped to the next to write the other part I knew, and forgot to connect them XD)_**

* * *

**Gaara's POV**

Sakura's room is a lot less girly than I had thought it would be.

Sure, I had seen it before, but I had never really paid attention to the details.

Looking around, I find that there is nothing at all that says that this room belongs to a teenage girl. There are no stuffed animals, no pink colors at all, no romance novels, no posters of famous actors, nothing. It's as though this room belongs in a hotel, rented but never owned. The only reason I know it's hers is because of the school uniform hanging up on the closet door, the boxes on her dresser containing the gifts she wanted to keep from her birthday, and the dirty clothes of hers strewn across the floor; including the black dress and heels she wore yesterday.

I shake my head.

Time is precious at the moment. Sakura is in the shower, and there's no guarantee how long she's going to stay in there. I have only moments to scope and find something that would help me gather information.

Looking around I find nothing.

There's no computer. I can't see a cell phone. There are no journals or diaries…

Wait… wouldn't she hide something like that? Even if she lives alone, don't girls always hide their diaries?

I don't pause to think about it, instead I lunge to her dresser, pulling out compartment after compartment, shuffling through them quickly in order to find it. First compartment: makeup. My hand shoves the bottles and cases around, but there's nothing. Second compartment: clothes. I shove the different shirts off to the side, still finding nothing. The third and final compartment opens, revealing bras and underwear. Now would be a really bad time for her to open the door, but I have to look. Submerging my hand in the soft fabrics, I grope and prod, looking for anything that would feel like a book.

Nothing.

I run to the closet, falling to my knees. There's nothing on the floor, nothing under the carpet. Looking up I see that there is no shelf above to hide anything.

I growl.

Where the hell would she hide it?

Closing the closet door I sprint over to the bed, lifting the large mattress up to give me visible view beneath it. Still nothing. I don't buy it, and plunge my arm beneath it, going deeper than a first glance. Shifting my arm around, I, again, feel nothing.

Does she even have one? I would just be wasting my time if she doesn't even have a diary…

Angrily, I collapse onto the bed.

Where the hell is it!

I punch a pillow in aggravation. My punch strong enough to send the pillow back to the wall, the solidness of it ringing through my hand.

Wait a minute.

There's a pillow directly behind the pillow I just hit. No matter how strong I punched, I shouldn't be feeling that much of the wall, the second one would muffle it too much. That has to mean there's something in the pillow case…

Allowing a small feeling of hope to course through me, I lift up the pillow, shaking it, forcing whatever is inside to fall out. Indeed, something does. It's a hardcover black book, small, yet thick. I open the cover, flipping through the pages. There are no typed words in here, only handwritten words and scribbles of drawings.

I smirk.

Got it.

Relaxing, I put the pillow back exactly as it was. I return to the dresser, pulling out the compartments again, making sure they're neat and organized like they were originally. Looking around, I evaluate my work. The clothes are still strewn on the floor as they were, the pillows looking slept on, but neat. The dresser appears innocent, like no one had searched them, and the closet appears just as satisfactory as it was before.

Glancing toward the door nervously, I grip the book tighter. There's no time to read anything right now, I'll have to take it and read it later. I tuck the diary in the front of my sweatpants, the drawstring keeping it in place. My shirt is pulled down to cover the top portion of it, the bagginess of the fabric hiding the fact that I'm holding anything. Content, I walk out of the room, and shut the door.

* * *

The damn cat is sitting in front of the bathroom door, just staring at it. He looks somewhat odd without his tail, but he seems to be managing fine without it. His ears twitch, filling with the sounds of the shower. Overall he looks like a large white doormat, just waiting to get his nose flattened when the door opens.

I smirk at the thought.

Ignoring him, I walk into the kitchen. My water bottle is sitting on the counter from where I put it last night, so I pick it up and chug it down. Knowing that Sakura is in the shower has made me extremely thirsty for some reason. The liquid feels good running down my throat, its dryness reversing almost immediately. When I finish chugging, I place the empty bottle back down on the counter, taking the time to regain my breath, and then tossing it into the garbage.

My eyes catch that damn cat again as I walk toward the living room. He's pawing at the door, his back extending to its full length so that he reaches the height of the doorknob. It's like he's clawing to get in, trying to dig his way through the door. I watch him slightly amused, his pawing getting more desperate. My smile starts to fade; my eyes narrowing.

Why does he want to get in so badly?

I stand up, slowly, my senses heightened. My ears picking up all the sounds of the apartment, the movie playing in the apartment below. The shadows around the room dance in my eyes, yet I can see clearly each individual object hidden inside them. Soft individual strings of the carpet caress my feet. The scents all mingle and intertwine in my nose, yet each scent is clearly distinctive: dust, cat, water, coconut-vanilla shampoo, the intoxicating scent of a woman's flesh. Sakura's scent…

Scribble's ear twitches, his head following around to identify the noise of the man walking toward him. He sees me, his blue eyes knowing. His mouth opens, a meow escaping into the silence between us. I can barely hear it over the sound of the shower. Yet he seems to know I've heard him, so he turns back to the door, pawing, and now meowing.

Something must be wrong.

Sprinting to the bathroom door, I wrack my knuckles against it.

"Sakura? Is everything okay?" I call. My voiced is even and loud, but I can't be sure if she could hear it over the shower. Deciding I should try again, using my fist this time, I start to pound once more, but before I could call out to her again…

Sakura lets out a loud blood-curling scream.

"Sakura!" I bellow, slamming my shoulder against the door. It the wood gives way easily, fragments and splinters piercing my arm. I ignore the pain and run inside the tiled room. My body spins in a quick 360, scoping the room for any intruders. There's no one there. There's just the towel cabinet that's too small for anyone to hide in, the sink, and toilet.

A sickening thought comes into my mind.

What if the intruder is hiding inside the shower? It's the perfect cover. A man standing behind her, a knife pressed against her throat to keep her quiet, another hand covering her mouth…

A loud growl makes its way out of my throat,

Grabbing hold of the shower curtain, I rip it back. "Are you alright!?" I demand, ready to strike, my arm already positioned in the best angle to break someone's neck.

Sakura is standing in the middle of the shower, the water still pelting down on her. She's naked, trembling, alone…

She freezes, turning to me, a look of horror on her face.

Is she hurt? Did someone break in? There doesn't seem to be any blood on her. The only thing running down her skin is water. Looking down at her feet, I see no red hue to the water either. She must be physically fine.

"WHAT THE FUCK GAARA! she screams, her arms shooting up and covering her breasts tightly, her body spinning toward the wall away from me, her leg lifting slightly to keep as much of her from view as possible.

"Are you alright!?" I demand again, "You screamed!"

"The water went cold!" she hisses, her eyes glaring threateningly at me, "Now get the hell out!"

I blink.

She gave such a loud scream because the water went cold?

"GET OUT!" she screams again, slamming her eyes closed as though willing me away.

I give her one more up and down, just to be sure, before stepping back, and walking through the door. The extra loud slam I give it seems to have helped Sakura calm down, for I don't hear any other screams or profanities through the door.

* * *

**SAKURA'S POV**

THAT FUCKING GAARA! LIKE I'M EVER GOING TO FUCKING FORGIVE HIM! I feel violated, I feel… I feel…

I pull up the skirt of my school uniform past my thighs, using the effort needed to vent my anger.

What a dick! I bet he planned it all along! _Are you alright _my ass! He just wanted to get in a good look at me naked! And he did…

I blush.

His eyes were everywhere. My thighs, my boobs, my…

I blush even deeper.

"That pervert!" I wail.

I need chocolate. Expensive, makes you fat later in life, rich sweet chocolate. A girl's best friend, helps you through the night; chocolate.

My eyes catch the pile of presents stacked up on my dresser, the ones I decided to keep. Velvet boxes containing jewelry: diamond necklaces, bracelets and anklets of precious stones, a silver cord choker with an amethyst pendant at the center, a pretty blue dress that was too nice fitting to throw away… And there, at the top, my box of chocolate.

It's a box shaped like a heart, but it had a detailed design of a swan, its wings forming the two bumps of the heart. Lifting the lid, I find twenty pieces of the most beautiful chocolate candies I have ever seen. They're so perfectly made, so elegant, that it makes you almost not want to eat them.

Almost.

Picking up a square one with a detailed red colored flower of icing at the top, I plop it into my mouth. Immediately I am in heaven. The outside is dark chocolate, yet the icing of the flower is sweet enough to get rid of the bitter after taste. My eyes flutter as the inside is revealed. A rich, creamy milk chocolate, the kind that melts into a perfect liquid in your mouth. It's so heavenly that I forget all about the terrible bastard Gaara and his perverted sorry-ass excuses.

I wonder who gave the chocolates to me…

Looking at down into the box I see nothing, nothing but nineteen more beautiful pieces of art. The swan cover has no _From _notice, or card. Hopefully, I flip it over. Bingo! Tucked in the back of the cover is an envelope. It's a creamy white color with beautiful handwriting in red ink spelling out my name.

_Sakura._

My fingers reach down, grabbing the envelope expectantly. It's not stuck shut, only having the flap folded into the envelope. I take out the letter inside. Opening it, I barely have time to catch the object that falls out from it.

It's a necklace.

It's a heart, a golden heart with a beautiful engraved rose on top of it, taking up most of the space. It's beautiful, more beautiful than any other piece of jewelry I had ever seen, even the expensive gem stuttered jewelry I received. It was so simple, yet so perfect, it topped them all. Flipping it over, my fingers tracing the curves of it, I find something even more surprising. My breath catches in my throat. Engraved on the back is a prancing lion with a dead snake grasped in his jaws.

The Giovanni family emblem.

Now I really want to know who this is from. Taking the single piece of paper out from the envelope, but before I can read it, a picture slides out.

It's a picture of a stunning teenager with long red hair done in pigtails reaching down to her waist. She's grinning widely at the camera, and doing the peace sign. Her eyes are closed for the pose, but she's undoubtedly…

"Mom," I breathe.

Her arm is wrapped around a boy beside her, but he's a couple inches taller than she is. He seems to be surprised at her movement, an embarrassed look on his face. His eyes are a strange gold, his skin much paler than the girl's, his hair pitch black. I think I've seen him before, but I'm not sure where… That's when I see it. Around the girl's neck is a gold chain, a small pendant hanging in front of her shirt, a heart… with some sort of design on it…

Excited, yet suspicious, I clutch the necklace in my hand tighter, possessively, lifting the letter up to my eyes, its words leaping out at me, speaking to me.

I begin to read the familiar language of my origin.

_Dear Sakura,_

_You may not remember me, Bianca and you left when you were very small, but I was quite close to your mother. Through a series of coincidences and formalities, that necklace has fallen into my care. It belonged to your mother, Sakura. I found it high time it would be returned to you. She was never without it when she was younger, wearing it every day until a new chain had to be created for it. I assume such a memento of her would be greatly appreciated by you._

_It's been such a long time since I have seen you, you weren't even up to my waist the last time we met. I hope you do not find me presumptuous, but I will be arriving in your country on the second of April. It will be a short visit, and will last only the day of, but I am anticipating the day because I believe you would like to meet me again, as I you. I will be waiting at the fountain by the docks. It's a triplet of birds if I recall correctly._

_Hoping to see you then,_

_Orochimaru_

I reread the last paragraph again.

Orochimaru is coming here? Orochimaru…

When I was little, Orochimaru always terrified me. I would tremble at the sight of him. His aura was overwhelming, like a bade ready for the kill, like a snake ready to strike… He was the person in charge of enforcing punishments among those who broke agreements or threatened our family. He was basically the leader of all assassinations and hits our family took part in or assigned. Yet he was always the one who took care of me. Uncle and Mom were always fighting… It was before Mom decided to live with Dad, taking me with her. I remember one time…

All alone, I was in my playroom, listening to the yelling voices of Mario and my mom through the walls. They were so loud the walls vibrated. I had been scared then, my hands clasping over my ears trying to drown out the words, but I still heard them. And then the door opened. He walked in. Orochimaru, with his long black hair. He took me into his arms and held me. I must have been three at the time, I was so small, and he was so warm. He said something to me, something I can't remember. But it was nice… I calmed down after that. I wish I could remember what he said. But… It was always like that. Orochimaru was always around. He was the one who took care of me, watched over me instead of hiring a bodyguard. He was always there…

I would like to see him again…

Taking a last, loving, look at the necklace, I clasp it around my neck, and vow never to take it off.

* * *

"I still haven't forgiven you," I growl as we pass through the gates of the school.

The rift between us seems to speak what I just said, even without words. We're three feet apart, and I'm so tense I'm ready to spring and kill someone. Why the HELL did he have to barge into the bathroom and see me naked!?

"Hn," Gaara sounds as a reply to me.

I'm tempted to hit him. Tempted, but I won't. One: he would be willing to break my arm in public for trying, though I'd be able to break his jaw for sure. Two: there's something far worse than a broken jaw awaiting him once we get inside that building.

I give a demonic grin at the thought.

He's going to be so embarrassed. He's going to be so _pissed!_ I'll have to join the Witness fucking Protection Program after this. But it's going to be worth it. It is going to be so wor-

Gaara's arm reaches out in front of me, cutting me off.

He opens the door for me.

"Thanks?" I guess.

His chivalrous movement shocked me for a moment, making me momentarily lose my anger for him. Why did he open the door for me? Was he being nice? Was it his way of apologizing? My breath catches in my throat. Was he apologizing!? Was he saying he's sorry through this simple polite act!? There's no other meaning for the redheaded bastard to do a nice thing for me! HE REGRETS WHAT HE DID! _FUCK! _If he's sorry then what I did was-

Noises interrupt my train of thought. Right as we enter the school we can see the commotion. Students are piling around the notice boards, others grouping around the windows to certain classrooms. Boys, girls, jocks, nerds, everyone is here, and they're all looking at what's been posted everywhere. Gaara, determined to find out what the possible new threat it, marches right up to the onlookers. They feel a threatening presence behind them, and scatter. Immediately Gaara's aura changes. It's like the whole room suddenly went quiet. No one dares to talk, or even whisper. The atmosphere becomes thick, and heavy, like it's too cold to move.

Gaara reaches forward, his hand grasping one of the many pictures plastered to the notice board. He stares at it, jade eyes taking in the sight. Then he turns.

Turns to me.

Oh shit…

"I'm just gonna… RUN!" I yelp, bolting away from his lunging grasp. Students get shoved away by my hands as I try to escape. My shoulders slam into people, yelps of pain and profanities being shot at me in return. I don't care. At the moment, my life is more important than theirs, since none of them have pissed off a professional red haired assassination mercenary. I get more aggressive as I run, elbowing and stomping on the feet of people who get in my way; there's no time to punch or kick. All I can do is get as much space between me and Gaara as fast and efficiently as I can. Some students elbow me back, others know to keep out of my way and hustle to the sidelines, like a mass parting of the Black Uniformed Sea, while others still watch on in amusement.

Please let me get away, please let me get away, please let me get away…

I dare to look behind me.

Gaara is running just as fast, picking his way through the crowd, the students getting out of _his_ way more efficiently than they did for me. Probably for fear of their lives. He's looking like he's craving blood at the moment. My blood…

"STOP FOLLOWING ME!" I yell, forcing my legs to work faster.

Assassinating bastard or not, no one can out run me.

No one.

I round a sharp corner, a nearly 90 degree angle turning point. My ankles ache at the pivot, but I bite my tongue and keep running.

Panic grips me.

How many seconds have passed? Any moment Gaara is going to round that corner and find me, kill me, and drag my corpse around the school. What could I do? Where could I go? There's no time to think!

I burst through the door of the first room I see, not even bothering to see what room it is I'm entering. Much to my surprise, I'm greeted with a glossy white.

The boys' bathroom.

I have never been in a guy's bathroom before. It feels odd, like every object inside had been turned inside out and placed back exactly where they were, yet you knew they weren't. There's a whole wall that can only be a shrine of urinals, to the adjacent wall is four our five sinks, opposite those are two stalls with their doors wide open. Holding, no doubt, toilets. What the hell, it's an enclosed space right? I bolt over to the stall furthest from the entryway of the bathroom. I want to lock the door behind me, but it's too much of a giveaway that it's occupied, so I keep it unbolted. Now all I have to do is wait. He'll pass soon enough. Collapsing onto the toilet seat in exhaustion, I start to calm down, but I can't help but bring my feet up onto the seat too, just in case.

No sooner had I done so, the door to the bathroom opens, its creaking squeal echoing through the tiled room. Immediately I know it's him. The atmosphere seems to have gone cold, stagnant, with no movement at all, just the static like presence coming ever so much closer. Footsteps thunder in the silence, much louder than my beating heart, much more life threatening than the my lack of breathing. Biting my lip to keep myself from springing from my position to attack him, to give myself an honorable end, I wait.

The footsteps are so close now, already at the stall next to mine. It swings open, the hinges squealing slightly as it does so.

Silence.

He seems to be taking in the fact that there's nothing there. Was he expecting me to be in that stall? Did I throw him off by hiding in the one next to it? The intruder seems to have read my mind, for he walks two steps over to the door I'm hiding behind.

I can feel him. It's as though I can _see_ him through the door. He stands there, patiently, allowing me time to give myself up. His back is strait, his eyes blazing, aura smoldering. I can hear him breathing, steady, controlled, calm. He doesn't seem to be anticipating the kill. Then again…

Appearances can be deceiving.

There's a soft sound, a delicate thud, as he places his hand on the door. Still he waits, giving me one last chance. Or is he doubting himself? Is he doubting whether I'm before him? Is he doubting whether I'm here at all? I don't know. All I do know, is that the door is slowly opening, the wall between me and him shattering brick by brick as it does so.

And then all is revealed.

* * *

**GAARA'S POV**

"What are you doing?" I ask dumbfounded. It's all I can seem to say. The possibility that I could ask something else doesn't even come to mind. It's just so strange. Sakura, the sassy mafian princess I was hired to protect, is staring at me with such expectant eyes that I don't know if I'm supposed to kill her or ravage her. She's lost looking, pale, her eyes wide, her hair slightly disheveled from when she was running. She looks so much younger than she actually is. Like a kid hiding from an argument she can hear through the walls. She's confused, lonely, afraid.

"What are you doing?" I ask again, at a loss for any other words but those.

Her eyes flash with life, her situation understood at last. Letting out a grimace, a wince, she starts to speak. "I _was_ supposed to be running for my life."

I stare at her.

"You didn't seriously think I was going to kill you?" I ask, flabbergasted.

I was hired to protect her, to keep her alive. Even if she annoyed me beyond what I could take, I would still uphold the contract. Sure, I may mangle or disfigure her, but I wouldn't kill her.

She doesn't seem to see this logic, instead she waves her hands around the small stall she's in, as though presenting it to me. "I'm hiding in a toilet," she says as an answer. She thinks this comment shows just how serious she thought I was about killing her. A delinquent girl hiding for her life in a toilet in the guy's bathroom…

Is she a moron?

"Would you kindly shut the door an walk away?" she asks, somewhat polite, though somewhat edgy.

I just stare.

"Why would I do that?"

"I've gotta pee," she says without embarrassment, as though she were stating a simple fact.

"This is the guys bathroom…" I remind, my hands clenching into fists for some unknown reason, then I relax them.

Her fists clenching and unclenching like mine, though hers is to try and control her building anger. "So what, there's a toilet!?"

"No." I say.

"Why the fuck not! I gotta pee!" she screams. Her hand goes to her abdomen, as though it would stop any leaking fluids before they announced themselves to others.

In truth, I was not entirely sure why I had said she couldn't use the boys' bathroom. It wasn't like she was exposed, there was a stall with a lock on it, and the toilet was just as usable for a girl as it was for a guy. For some strange reason I found the thought annoying…

"Punishment," I answer her, completely startling myself as well as her.

"What?" she asks dumbfounded, her anger subsiding into confusion.

"You not being able to pee is punishment," I reach into my pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper, flip it open, and I shove it toward her face, "for this."

* * *

**SAKURA'S POV**

I nearly laugh at the picture, containing myself by pulling my knees to my chest, my skirt exposing my underwear, but I don't really care at the moment. I just can't laugh. I'd seen the picture countless times before, since I'm the one who drew it. It was a another chibi picture of him. He was a blob with a mop of red hair. His "body" was colored a light tan, but he wasn't wearing any clothes. It wasn't explicit, what with him being a blob, but it made it all the more funny because he was attacking a giant rubber ducky, the word GLOMP written above it in big letters. Of course, I added that cute little blush again, and a little word bubble with the word _kawaii _written in my most girly handwriting.

There were more of them too, I had stayed up all night making them.

Another one had a picture of him with black cat ears and a tail, with a black and white maid's outfit on him. I made it less chibi and more real looking, though I did make him look far younger and more girly than he really is. I was all into that one, making his head tilt to the side, a cute smile on his face, an innocent "glow" about him. The word bubble that time had been "Nyan!"

After that I had drawn one of Gaara as a giant red dragon. It was hard to tell, if you hadn't seen him before, because the dragon was ferocious looking and no where near human looking. I helped just a _little_ bit by putting a mop of red hair on his head. It ended up looking more like a horse's main, but the jade eyes belonged to him with absolute certainty. He was attacking a medieval castle, not saying anything, just being a big, red, flying lizard. On the balcony was a princess in a pink dress, with one of those high hats that point… Again, the princess was Gaara. I made his face all contorted and fearful, like a spazzing chibi in heels. This time I wrote nothing; Gaara in a dress was word enough.

The last one was by far her best, and she was grateful that he did not grab that picture, for she would surely laugh at it in front of him. Then, duty or not, he _would_ kill her. It was Gaara, apparently just have woken up. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, his body clad in pink pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers. He was holding extremely pale foundation with the hand that was on the counter with the sink, while his other hand was up by his eye, holding a thing of eyeliner. Sure, the rings were caused by severe insomnia, but the other students didn't know that… The thing that made it so funny was the fact that he was making a kissy face, admiring his reflection in the mirror. Truthfully, I was disappointed with the last piece of work, but only because I couldn't think of anything to say in a thought bubble…

I blink.

How is it, exactly, that I am still alive? After pissing off my bodyguard, insulting him in front of others, degrading him in pictures…

"Is this you getting back at me for this morning?" Gaara asks, his voice is calm, steady, as though he was expecting something like this to happen.

"No," I start quickly, angrily, "this is for being an asshole, crashing my party, being a stalker, an-" I stop, my expression frozen. I… shouldn't have said that. If I had agreed with him he may have let me go, but now…

He looks aggravated, irritated, _pissed_. His jaw is clenched, his eyes shut as though trying to control his anger, fists clenched.

"Fuuuck," my voice whispers to me, showing how screwed I am.

This seems to snap something within Gaara, his eyes clench closed tightly, his lip being bit roughly by his teeth. He arm moves so fast I could hardly see it, but the sound of his fist slamming against the wall of the stall makes me jump. Daringly, my eyes wander to where his fists rests. The metal is all warped an indented, with cracks webbing their way around his fist as if escaping from it. I can hear his breath, panting, though he's trying his hardest to contain it, to contain his anger.

I'm afraid.

"I can't," he starts, his fist relaxing into a palm and sliding away from the wall and toward his side, "I can't do my job calmly and rationally if you keep making such a big deal out of the littlest of things."

"You saw me naked!" I shriek in protest, my face heating up at saying it out loud.

As a woman that's the worst! It's even worse because we live together, so I see him all the time. Plus he doesn't sleep, so he could be watching me, defenseless, thinking terrible thoughts about me, planning-

"So if you see me naked we're even," he says, not even questioning, just stating.

Before I can even comprehend what exactly that statement means, his hands are already down to his pants, undoing the clasp, pulling down the zipper. Grabbing the black fabric roughly, he starts to yank them down past his hips, making them slide down to his shins, exposing his deep blue boxers completely and the bump like bulge underneath its fabric. His fingers already at their hem trying to pull them down. They start to descend, the pale skin on the bones of his hips cleanly exposed, a thin line of hair descending down the center of his abdomen meeting with a thicker reddish collection by the top of his boxers, the start of his pubic-

"PUT IT AWAY!" I scream, bolting up off the toilet seat and slapping him hard across the face.

His head whiplashes to the side from my ridiculous strength, forcing him to stumble backward out of the stall, nearly losing his balance on his fallen pants. He catches himself before he crashes onto the floor, but I don't watch him after that. I'm too busy trembling, my hands covering my eyes in case anything falls out, or if he tries to flash me again.

"Oh, God." I groan, forcing the hands on my eyes to clasp tighter to my face, as though that would drown out the image burned into my eyes.

Gaara.

Gaara with his pants down.

Gaara about to expose the bulge beneath his boxers to me.

"What the _fuck_ Gaara!? You can't just go around showing girls your _dick! _Especially when they're virgins!" I wallow in the horror of it some more, bringing on of my hands down to my mouth to keep the vomit down, adjusting the other so both eyes are still covered.. I groan again in reluctance.

Seriously, WHAT. THE. FUCK!?

The question is left unanswered, because before I can think of an answer, Gaara is on me. My hand is yanked away from my face and dragged above my head by a painfully strong grip. Something hard slams into my chest, causing me to slam against the wall behind me with enough force for all the air to escape my lungs in a painful _woosh_. A moment of thankfulness crosses over me because I've landed in the space on the side of the toilet, for the hard porcelain of it was safely out of distance of my legs as I flew.

My mind goes numb with a ringing sensation as my head slams against the wall. Eyes closed tightly as if to keep out anymore oncoming pain, I try to regain my hold. Slowly, my mind starts to come back, the ringing stopping, my senses unmingled themselves. I'm even able to open my eyes.

Something is noticed now, felt. A warm sensation on my face, steady, panting. Breath? I soon forget this, for it's replaced by a throbbing. I can't tell where it's from at first, everything hurts too much, but some part of me hurts more than the others. My arm…wrist… It hurts… I'm finally able to open my eyes. Everything is fuzzy at first, blurred, just a lot of white, a bright light, red…

Everything snaps into place.

Gaara lunged at me after he regained his balance, slammed me into the wall, pinning me there with his knee pressing painfully into my thigh. He's why everything hurts. He's grabbing my wrist, the throbbing thing. He's glaring at me, his eyes overwhelmed with an emotion, it's like his eyes are on fire. It's terrifying! His breath is hitting my face, warm, angry. I must have only been out of it for a second or two; he still looks like he's calming down from the movement. The pain on my wrist is so bad I think it might be broken, I almost let out a pained cry, but he cuts me off before I do.

"I don't understand," he growls. His voice is so cold I nearly whimper at the sound of it, but the searing pain of his nails digging into my wrist keeping me from doing so. "What the hell am I supposed to do!?" He slams his other fisted hand into the wall next to my shoulder, a loud breaking sound telling me he destroyed the tiles found there in his strength. "You're all distraught over me seeing you naked, yet evening the score doesn't calm you down. You won't accept an apology, and you won't let it go. You're making my job so difficult in your immaturity. What am I supposed to do!?"

He shifts his knee, jabbing it deeper into my thigh, sifting my leg over so its parted from the other one.

Oh, God! What is he going to do!? I can't do anything against him! I can't… Is he going to rape me!? Please, just let him kill me instead! Please! Make him stop! It hurts… It hurts…

"What. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Do?" he hisses dangerously, his fisted hand grabbing hold of my shoulder more tightly than his other hand has my wrist. I can hear the bone creaking under his grasp. My mouth parts, letting out a loud scream-like yelp. This only seems to piss him off more, as if I wasn't supposed to feel any pain. "Tell me!" he demands.

"Piggy…"

"What?" he snaps, my voice too pained to be understood.

"Give me a piggy-back ride," I yelp in pain and confusion, not sure where this ridiculous idea was coming from, but just going with the flow "to each of my classes for the next three days and we're even!"

Gaara doesn't say anything to this, only his habital "Hn", but he must be fine with the agreement, for his grip slackens, then he releases me completely. Backing away, he allows room for me to gather myself and gives himself time to properly do up his pants. I slowly bring my wrist down from the cold tile, holding it to my chest, the sudden release making the blood flow quickly through the areas where circulation had been cut off. Glancing at the skin, I see the start of a giant welt-like bruise already starting to form.

"Sorry," Gaara's voice says quietly from in front of me, a few steps away from the stall, as he sees me looking horrified at the building bruise.

I throw my hand down to my side, trying to act like it's nothing.

"I'm fine," I lie.

Gaara turns his back to me, crouching down, one knee on the floor. Waiting for something. Understanding that whatever it is isn't coming, he turns his head to look back at me.

"Our agreement," he reminds.

Oh…yeah. I have to get a piggy-back to and from each class for three days…

Walking over to him, I dare rest my hands on his shoulders, sliding them hesitantly toward the front of his chest, clinging tightly, yet gently, to him. He starts to stand up slightly, giving me room to wrap my legs around his waist. I do, and I grip him tight. I hadn't been given a piggy-back since I was small. Since my parents were alive… Being this high up makes me almost scared…

Gaara doesn't seem to notice my feelings. He just stands up completely, curves his arms behind him to keep my skirt plastered to my butt and me on his back, and starts walking.

"You'd better not urinate on me. I'll kill you," he says openly.

"What?" I ask blinking, not quite understanding his randomness.

He turns his head backward slightly, so I can take in the jade of his eye, "You said you had to pee."

"Oh. I was lying," I say flatly, followed by a wide grin that would be impossible for him to miss. Though I have to say, the scene of me peeing on him would be quite hilarious. Embarrassing for me, humiliating for him, and probably the last evil act I would ever do in my life.

A wave of depression washes over me. Was I being childish? Was it wrong of me to want him out of my life? To be normal? It was only natural I would use every method in the book to get rid of him… right? But he was only doing his job…

"Sorry I made such a big deal out of… things," I mumble into his shoulders, my hands clenching the uniform fabric on his shoulders. My forehead is pressed to the hair on his neck, my own dangling behind me. I can feel his hands clutch a couple bundles of the loose strands that reach his palms, but whether he notices he's doing it or not, I don't know.

"Sorry I tried to show you my dick," he says in return, his voice seemingly emotionless, though I thought I heard a slight bit of sarcasm.

"Yeah? Well, we're even," I say with a smile, hidden by his warm back.

With those words said between us, Gaara uses his foot to push the door open, and we start walking down the hallway of the school.


	9. Informational Pursuit

**Yo! I'm back! This is in Gaara's POV just to tell ya! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!**

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Tuesday

_A bunch of delinquents from a rival school challenged me today. The never said what school they were from, and they weren't wearing their uniforms either. Maybe they weren't even students. It wouldn't be the first time I was attacked by a group of yakuza wannabes._

_It was a good fight. They even managed to land a solid shot on my jaw. It still stings, and a bruise is even forming. I will wear it proudly; evidence of my favorite kind of fight._

_It was exhilarating, exciting, thrilling, euphoric, pain-giving, orgasmic…_

_I wonder if that makes me a masochist._

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Wednesday

_Sai stopped by today and I seriously almost punched him. He got blood all over my carpet. Again. It's what he always does when he gets home from a mission._

Mission_, his word for what he does._

_I don't even know what exactly it is that he does. He just goes out at night, gets all bloody, gets a lot of money, and comes to my place as a way to say "I'm alive!"_

_Probably._

_It's definitely involving the Underworld though. He never was able to let go of that life. Then again, he was born and trained to be a part of it. Sai can't even experience true emotions. Not like the rest of us. He smiles, sure, but it's fake._

_I've never even heard him laugh._

_I take him for granted. I know this and I loathe myself for it. He's my best friend, my only friend, even if it's only one sided. He's incredibly strong, nearly invincible. Be it with guns, knives, martial arts… He always comes back because he always wins. He always comes back…_

_But I always worry that one day he won't come back. He'll go out, for nothing in particular. I'll send him off with a "Have a safe trip!" and he'll never come back. Just like Mom and Dad. He'll never come back to me again._

_I will be all alone._

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Monday

_A girl committed suicide at the train station last week. I was standing right next to her. There was no warning, she didn't even look sad. I remember her clearly because she was wearing a bright yellow flower on a pin in her long tied-up hair. I had thought it odd, and caught myself watching her. And then she leapt off the platform._

_I can still feel the blood. I've scrubbed myself until my skin was raw and dotted with my own blood, but I can still feel the warm stickiness of hers on my skin._

_I can still smell it._

_I never told anyone I was at the train station that day, not even Sai. I usually tell Sai everything, confiding in him because he wouldn't judge me since he didn't care. But I wanted to. I wanted to talk to someone, wanted someone to hold me. I was shaking all night, curled into a bawl like a victim, crying and shaking like a little girl. I could hardly breathe I was crying so hard. And the blood still clung to me even though I couldn't see it. That girl's blood. _

_I hadn't had an anxiety attack since I was first attacked by a hitman. I had been cornered on my way home. He overpowered me, dragging me to an old warehouse at gunpoint. I had been terrified. Yet I had moved, I had acted. Somehow I was able to get the gun out of his hands._

_I blew his brains out._

_You'd never realized it before, but blood has a very sour smell. Like spoiled milk and metal. And it was stickier than I would have thought, but dried extremely fast. It was caked across my face, my uniform, my hands. It even painted the gun. The brains were sprayed across the floor, a mesh of gunk and blood._

_It was the first time I killed a man._

_It wasn't the last._

_Yet that first time, that first time I was unable to do anything for what seemed like the longest time. I was frozen, unable to move. Hyperventilating, passing out, only to wake up and pass out again. The sight and the smell made me vomit, which brought on gagging and coughing and move vomiting. I was freezing, yet sweating profusely. It was only after I regained my composure to leave that I realized I had stayed in the warehouse with the body for over twelve hours._

_I skipped school completely the next three days after the girl killed herself. I got into more fights those three days than I usually got into in a month. I was vicious. I was merciless. And I was doing it out of blame. Because the girl standing on the platform, the girl with the yellow flower… I could have saved her. Sometimes when I think about it I see myself pushing her off the platform and into the oncoming train. I see myself murdering her. It was my fault she died because I didn't save her. Just like back then, just like with the hitman from back then…_

_I killed her._

I stop reading for a moment, taking in the events of Sakura's life. Sure, I knew that there would be mentions of hitmen, but they were hardly mentioned compared to the other bad situations the girl had gotten herself into. Not even two pages earlier she was nearly hit by a car of a drunk couple, and before that she was in a massively outnumbered fight against her peers, many of them from her own school. Repeatedly I was able to understand just how alone she is. There are no friends for her at school, the teachers feign like yet try to undermine her in the shadows. One teacher had even vandalized the school in Sakura's name in order to get her expelled because he was scared of her.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I decisively opened the diary in the middle, deciding that more recent information might help me, as well as show what the girl was like when she wasn't in a streak of bad luck.

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_**Thursday,**_ I read.

It was strange. Sakura never labeled the dates, only the day of the week. Was she just too lazy to check for the numerical date? Or was it because she was detaching herself from the events? Was she trying to make everything seem as normal as possible, was that normal for her? Or did she not even care?

_Stop,_ I scold myself. I wasn't supposed to care. I wasn't supposed to get emotionally attached. Once again becoming the stoic man I he usually am, I finish reading the entry.

_I was on the roof yesterday, deciding that sleeping in the sunshine was worth more than eating lunch. The cement was warm against my legs, hurting only slightly in its solidness, but the heat beating down on my face had me drifting off almost completely._

_I don't even know why I was at school. _That_ day was always skipped. Others hadn't noticed because I skipped class so frequently, but every year I would always skip on the same exact date._

_I stirred then, raising my wrist to my face to glance at my watch. _

_10:37_

_Releasing a deep breath I didn't even know I was holding, I stood up, dusting off my skirt and combing my fingers through my hair with one hand, containing a large yawn with the other. I walked nonchalantly toward the exiting door of the roof, not even minding the breeze against my locks and skirt. _

_It felt nice._

_But as I gripped the knob of the door and pushed, I realized too late that someone was on the other side trying to get up to the roof, and the force of both of us opening the door was such a surprise that I tumbled forward, falling onto the person and caused us both to fall down the steps._

"_Fuck!" I yelped in surprise as I realized my footing had been replaced with air, but soon that was silenced by the pained grunts caused by hitting step after step after step. Some hit my arm, some hit my ass, and I slid down at least half the flight on my side, smacking my head against at least two steps. The person falling with me did no better, and our positions shifted so that I felt a foot in my stomach, an elbow on my hip. Sometimes I was completely against the steps with the other person falling on top of me, and sometimes the other person was completely on the steps with me doing to falling._

_And then we smacked against the floor._

_Everything hurt, I could barely breathe my chest hurt so much. Ringing in my ears was the only reason I knew I hadn't been knocked unconscious even though all I could see was black._

"_Are you okay!?" a voice called. I thought it was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. Slowly, the ringing died down and my vision cleared. It was then I realized I was staring at the wall, my head limp to the side. I turned it, looking at the person who had landed on top of me after the descent of the stairs._

_Smoldering onyx eyes, deep black hair. A face filled with that of concern…_

_Sasuke Uchiha._

"_Shit, I'm sorry," I said, my voice strained. I tried to get up, but his weight wouldn't let me._

"_Sorry," he blushed, getting off of me as quickly as his sore body would allow him. He stood, extending a hand to help me up too, but I didn't accept it. I didn't even move. I just stayed on the floor, dazed, unmoving._

_Thinking._

_Everything hurt. Everything unbearably hurt. Yet I was alive. I had nothing to complain about. I had nothing to be pained for. I was alive. I was unscarred. I was unbroken. My face wasn't marred with a hideous scar, my eyelids had not been torn out of my head, I was not covered in burns. I was not pierced by glass. I wasn't like my parents._

"_Sakura…?" Sasuke called hesitantly. "Are you… alright?"_

"_Fine." I answered emotionlessly._

"_You're crying."_

_That's when I felt it. A dollop of water dripping from the corner of my eye and running down toward my ear. It was only one single tear, but it was still there. I was crying in front of Sasuke Uchiha._

_Snapping back to my senses almost immediately after this revelation I stood, once again dusting off my skirt (avoiding the pain on my hip)._

"_Do you need to go to the infirmary?" the Uchiha asked, thinking the tear had come from the pain. It must have been awkward for him, seeing the delinquent with the heart-of-stone Sakura crying in front of him._

_I shook my head back and forth quickly. "No."_

_Sasuke reached past me and grabbed the handle of the second door that lead to the hallways of the school. I was grateful there was this second barrier, or everyone in the halls would have seen our embarrassing fall, and my humiliating breakdown, no matter how small it had been._

"_I'll walk you to class," he said simply, as though he was obligated to after he was the cause of the fall._

"_No," I repeated, "I'm not going to class for the rest of the day."_

"_Skipping? Why?" He said it so innocently, so curiously, as though he really wanted to know._

_And so I told him. I don't know why, but I told him. I never told anyone at school about it before. Only the principle knew because of his records, and only Kakashi knew besides him because he was my homeroom teacher._

"_I'm going to the cemetery. Today is the anniversary of when my parents died. Car crash…"_

"_I'm sorry," Sasuke said quietly. And again, I couldn't help but feel that he really meant it. I was going to say something along the lines of "It's not that big of a deal" but I was cut off before I could say the words by the raven haired boy._

_He wrapped his arms around my small frame and hugged me._

_I was so stunned that I didn't say anything, I couldn't say anything. His body was so warm, so comforting, so _honest_ in his expressions that I started the feel the sting of tears in my eyes._

_I was going to start crying again!_

_So I shoved him away from me, and ran._

Once again taking in the events that I had never even imagined, I have to stop reading. Was there nothing good that happens to her? Does she only write down the bad things? I have always understood that diaries were for talking about boys and sex dreams and stupid girly fantasies and _shopping_. I never thought they were to expose the weak, vulnerable emotions of defiant people. Going in her thoughts, reading about her view on life… It makes the me feel as though I know nothing about the girl at all. She has been so damn stubborn to me, so irrational, so stealthy in idiotic plannings of revenge.

Last one, I think to myself, deciding that if there was no sign of the personality she shows in front of me and everyone else then the book was going to be forgotten all together.

Flipping it over, I rummaged through the pages until I was at the last three, the most recent. Capital letters caught my attention, so I started reading that entry first.

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Friday

_I was daydreaming in class today, History. That class always makes me fall asleep one way or another._

_I imagined I was a princess, locked away in a tower, guarded by a great and terrible red dragon. All I wanted to do was escape the tower and live life how I wanted to, but the dragon wouldn't let me leave because he was a sad a lonely little dragon who had no friends, so he decided he would take it out on me by roaring at me and scaring me with his fire._

"_Please, Mr. Dragon," I called, "let me go!"_

_The red dragon just roared angrily. "Never! I am a sad and pathetic loser who can't make friends, so I spend my miserable days trying to scare you because I have no life and nothing better to do!"_

_So I pulled out a chainsaw and cut off his head._

_But another one popped up! Now he had two heads! Both were ranting at me and raving about one story of their pathetic life after another. It wasn't a dragon at all! IT WAS A HYDRA!_

"_GAAAAH!" I screamed, cutting off head after head, only to be faced with two more for each one that fell. I was surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of redheaded faces, all of them glaring at me with their beady jade eyes._

"_Victory!" all the voices sang in unison, "The beautiful princess can never leave!"_

_And then a piece of chalk smacked me right in the forehead._

I feel my eye twitching slightly, a strange sensation that I hadn't felt for a long, long time.

Then, on the very bottom of my page, my eyes caught a very short entry. It had gotten my notice because of my name.

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Saturday

_I think Gaara is gay._

_I must look into this further._

"Here you go," Sakura said, placing a bento in front of me without even looking at what I was reading. "Rice, pickled vegetables, fish, and more rice. Sorry, but it's all I had in the kitchen."

Looking up, I remember where I am.

School: Lunch period.

The class's loud talking and laughter had seemed inaudible as I read, and now that I had stopped everything had snapped back. Sakura was right next to me, snapping apart her chopsticks and eyeing her own bento hungrily.

"What'cha been doing?" she asks, not entirely interested; entirely bored. She rolled her eyes over to me and glanced down at what I was holding.

"Information gathering," I answer truthfully, staring at the last entry with a strange annoyance.

What business was my sexual orientation to her? How as she going to _check _for such sexual orientation. When was this entry written?

I flip the page, hoping to find some sort of evidence of her espionage, but instead I'm looking at a completely different topic.

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Thursday

_The day after tomorrow is the agreed upon date. It will just be the two of us, not Gaara. I'll make sure of that. Should I dress up? Or would that be overdoing it? Does he want me to go casual? I really need to thank him for the necklace. I hope I don't get all emotional if we start talking about the past._

_I really miss him._

_Will he keep his promise to meet at the location on-_

And then came the terrible shriek.

"Is that my _diary!" _Sakura's voice hisses in a harsh whisper, "Are you reading my fucking _DIARY_!"

She was very strained, trying her hardest to shout at me without making others aware that the door to her soul was held within my hands.

"You talk about Sasuke Uchiha a lot," I say honestly, referring to the multiple entries of her comparing others to him, being jealous of him, thinking he's the only nice male in the school, tumbling down the stairs with him… "He could be a variable in a hostage situation. You should detach yourself."

"_Shut up_!" she hisses, ripping the book out of my hands, without any consideration for paper cuts on my part, and angrily shoves the thing in her book bag, making sure to clasp the flap securely. "You are such a _creep! _When we get home I'm going to-"

But her threat is cut off by the sound of her cell phone ringing. Furiously, she grabs it out of her pocket and flipped it open, growling angrily into the device.

"What do you want Sai, I'm _not_ in a good mood?"

Whatever is said on the other line makes her expression darken; her chin lowers defensively. I straighten up, doing a quick 360 around the room and out the windows, checking for anything out of place.

"Who is this," she demands, a few unoccupied students looking toward her outburst curiously. "… Hospital? Why would you be calling _me_?"

Her eyes widen, her aggression completely gone.

"What?" she gasps. "Sai's been shot?!"


	10. What is Real

**I'm sorry I have not updated for a couple months now. I seriously wanted to, and it had been my intention to, but as I stated on my profile my life got very complicated for the simplest of reasons that made things get very difficult and very time-consuming.**

**I had shit that needed to be dealt with.**

**I will still be writing, but not nearly as frequently as I had hoped to. I thank all my supporters and readers for their reviews and their enjoyment of what I have written/will write. For those of you that stuck with me, waited, and sent me messages of your encouragement…**

**This one is dedicated to you.**

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**_SAKURA'S POV_**

"Where is he!" I demand, slamming a hand down on the counter in anger at the silence of the woman in front of me; a hand that isn't my hand, a voice that isn't my voice…

My head is swimming, filled with thoughts and doubts unimaginable to me, appearing only as an ache of emotion so strong that my fingers have become numb and my vision starts to turn black. I have no doubt that I would have passed out moments ago if it my sheer anger-filled desperation had not kept me awake to find answers. To find out that there had been a mistake, that no one was physically capable of hurting Sai…

Hurting Sai…

The very thought that someone tried to kill him, to take him away from me, makes me so hostile and dark that the woman behind the counter starts to wheel her chair as far away from me as she can. But the woman isn't free of my hostility; I won't let her go. How _dare_ she refuse to tell me what room he's in due to "confidential" family-only regulations! That fat, ugly, stupid, _bitch_ was going to regret the day she ever picked up Sai's phone to contact me and not give me the answers I asked for when I asked for them! I AM SAKURA "LIONHEART" HARUNO GIOVANNI!

"You called _me_! Now tell me, before I have to start break your fingers," I hiss coldly, my eyes filling with a glare so threatening that the woman's very breathing stops, "where the _fuck_ is Sai!"

The woman is shaking fearfully, and the beats of the boots of security guards against the tiled floor is like the sound of a stampede in my ears, but for some strange reason I am numb to the danger I'm putting myself in. The danger of exposure, of attention, of jail, of a record, of Uncle's intervention, of killing someone in my anger…

After years of being hunted like an animal, self preservation instincts take over, and my eyes leave the working woman's in order to do a quick 360 around all that's visible on this floor of the hospital.

Twelve o'clock, directly behind the woman that trembles so greatly, reveals a security guard talking into a walkie-talkie, no doubt calling for reinforcements about a "disturbance." Three o'clock has a large exit door that warns of a siren if opened, though Seven tells of a silent exit through a large and open window in a patient's room. The thudding of the boots closing in on me is coming from Six o'clock, directly behind. Should I turn, they'll notice, so for now I guesstimate that there are two guards running toward me due to the frequency of the smacks of heels against the floor… But if there are two guards running toward me, another calling for back up, why is there an extra doing nothing at Nine? He's a big man, strong and muscled, not a run-of-the-mill Rent-a-Cop.

I find it odd that such a superior in security would be doing nothing instead of trying to stop a rowdy and emotional person threatening violence against the staff…

_Only, he's not doing_ _nothing_, I realize.

The big, bad, somewhat dangerous man is standing perfectly still, his arms crossed over his chest, yet tensed for action need he draw a weapon. He isn't just a security guard, but a _guard,_ guard. And who, out of anyone in the hospital, would need protection? Most likely, someone that had been shot... When guns are not readily available to the citizens, and no one had claimed to do the shooting... No doubt, either the cops or the yakuza were after whoever was inside. It was logic.

Craning my neck in order to peer painfully into the room behind the guard, my eyes lock onto a mass hidden beneath layers of white blankets and sheets. A mass that's the figure of a person. More pain on my behalf reveal a face of deathly white pale, almost like that of the sheets, obscured mostly by an oxygen mask and a wave deep black hair shaggily spread around a pillow. Shaggy hair that still retains the gleam of good grooming…

I'd recognize those OCD locks and that pasty complexion anywhere!

"SAI!" I scream, relief overrun with concern flooding my voice and every pore.

Bolting over the counter, scaring the shit out of the woman behind it no doubt, I barely escape the grasping arms of the two guards that were coming at me from behind. I take off, running through any open space I can find in order to get to the room, no matter who I have to shove, or what I have to push out of my way. It would have been so easy, so easy just to calmly walk over to the glass and look inside, knowing that my being here wouldn't be able to change Sai's condition, but my eyes are blurry from tears, either from the overwhelming stench of chemicals or from my relief, so my vision is erratic.

I'm met with the sounds and protests of those I shove out of my way, and again chased by the beating of the feet of security hot on my trial, but nothing seems to be real to me. Not the scene I'm making, not the dizziness in my head, not the stench of the hospital, nothing!

Sai! I want to hold you! I want to stroke your face! I want to be there when you wake up! I want you to look at me with those dark eyes of yours and listen when I say you're going to be alright! I want you to believe me! I want to believe myself! Sai! I want to see you! Please! Sai! I need you! SAI!

"Where do you think you're going?" the monstrous man in front of Sai's door growls. Before my overly emotional mind can process that he's talking to me, his arms are around me and I'm lifted off the ground. I squirm, fight, try to force my way through his barrier and into Sai's room, but I'm caged by the sheer density of his arms!

"Let me go! I have to see him! LET GO OF ME!" I shriek, his other arm shifting to cage my kicking legs as well. He has me in a position that threatens to have me thrown painfully over his shoulder and mercilessly to the floor, but I don't have enough left in me to care.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!"

"Calm down, Girlie," he grunts, trying to sound as calm as he wants me to be, even though my nails are digging into his skin as I try to claw my way away from him. Even though my knee has planted itself into his stomach so ferociously, and even though my elbow has sent him a kidney shot that will have him pissing blood for the next week, he attempts to keep a straight face.

"Sai, please, I just need to see Sai! I'm family! I'm _family_! HE'S THE ONLY FAMILY I'VE GOT! I NEED TO SEE HIM! LET. GO. OF. MEEEE!"

And then I scream.

Not because I'm in pain, or because the guard has hurt me, but because I cannot escape his iron grasp. I'm helpless. I'm weak. I'm incapable of doing anything to keep Sai alive, and I was incapable of protecting him in the first place. Guilt, anger, self-loathing, they take hold of me so deeply that I scream again, only this one is drown out by the dam of tears breaking and flooding down my face, my lack of breathing as I try to take a breath, and a convulsing body that tries to retain its pride in a time when all it wants to do is curl into a ball, vomit, and cry.

"It is alright, Mr. Tokihana. Put her down."

I don't even turn to see the owner of the voice, all I can do is stare past the glass and at Sai… broken Sai.

"Are you sure, Dr. Sakamoto?" my captor asks, his words are hesitant, but his reasoning is numb to my ears. Everything seems so very numb, so very cold, so very scary. Sai was shot. Sai was defeated. Everything is so very scary…

"Put her down," the man repeats more gently.

Mr. Tokihana obliges, and my feet are placed softly onto the floor, but the moment he lets go my legs turn to jelly, and I fall unceremoniously to the ground, like a heap; like useless trash.

I'm still trembling.

"Would you give us a moment, Mr. Tokihana?" the doctor asks, his voice smooth. It's very relaxing, his voice, like sleeping on velvet. It seems to make the numbness go away, and the ringing.

There is a faint patter as the guard walks away, keeping a close distance, no doubt, but away.

"I am Dr. Sakamoto. I am in charge of your friend's care. What is your name?" the warm voice asks me. It's so very warm, and very nice. I don't seem to be cold anymore, for my trembling has stopped. Was that why I was trembling? Because I was cold?

"Sakura. That is a beautiful name."

How did he know my name? Had I spoken? I didn't hear my voice. I didn't even feel my lips move.

"Sai's condition is very serious, Miss Haruno,"

The mention of Sai's name from someone else's lips seems to wake me from my trance.

"I _know _that!" I snap, my tone more out of fear of the coming truths than from anger, "He wouldn't be in the fucking Intensive Care Unit if it wasn't fucking serious! But you've got him in the hospital now, so _fix_ him!"

Fix him so that I can hear his voice again. Fix him so that he can call me Ugly again, so that I can punch him again, so that I can look into his eyes again as he teaches me how to fight better, so that I can get mad at him for staining my carpet in blood again after one of his missions, so that I can tell him how glad I am that he isn't dead; how much he means to me and how important he is to me… How important he has _always_ been to me.

Fix him so that I have a reason to live!

"Miss Haruno, I am aware how hard this is for you, so I will tell you the facts as they are." He pauses for a moment and helps me stand again, keeping a fluttery hand by my shoulder should I fall again, but I shake him off. He takes my actions with no disgruntlement, and merely stands before me, his face serious. Dr. Sakamoto is a young doctor, with a young face, an attractive face that would make him a heart-throb, but it's filled with such expertise that it would make me wonder if he graduated at the top of his class and was an expert surgeon. However, I'm not thinking of his past, or his handsome face, or his youth. I merely look at him, and wait for him to tell me about Sai. "Whoever shot him was aiming for his heart. They missed, but the bullet is very close to his heart at the moment. Surgically removing it is possible, but there is a very small margin of chance that he will survive the operation."

Oh God!

The swimming returns even thicker than before, and the taste of vomit is near the back of my throat.

"If the surgery will kill him, can't you just leave the bullet in?" I gasp, my voice quivering as I hyperventilate. The fluttering hand becomes a pillar of support on my shoulder. I focus on it, the feeling of its firm grip, and slowly the dizziness fades.

"No. That would not be possible," Dr. Sakamoto says, his voice very grim. "The vicinity of the bullet is far too close to the heart. Any movement made by him could cause it to lodge into the heart, and he will die. Right now he is in a drug-induced coma, in order to prevent him from moving and causing the bullet to stir, however such is not a long-term option."

"So he needs the operation," I breathe, my words so soft that I doubt Dr. Sakamoto even hears them. "Even if it kills him."

"I am going to be very honest with you, Miss Haruno. It is very probable that Sai will not be able to survive the transportation to the operation room. The very action of moving him to the room for surgery could cause the bullet to move, and it will kill him if it moves any closer to his heart."

"What are you saying?"

"You will not be allowed to see him, for the sake of the young man's life."

"What are you saying I should do?"

Dr. Sakamoto takes a small inhale of breathe, holds it, then slowly lets it out, his eyes closing with the exhale. They stay shut.

"Pray."

With that single word, the hand on my shoulder gives me one last reassuring squeeze, then is taken from me. With that one word, I am told everything I am allowed to do; which is nothing. With that one last word, Dr. Sakomoto walks away.

It never occurs to me that, had that particular man not been that particular sort of man, I may have killed him. At a time when I was so vulnerable, so defenseless and in a corner, I would have lashed out, if not out of anger than out of instinct. Yet that particular man had calmed me, told me devastating news, and had been able to keep me on my feet. The breath he took was one out of unwanted need. He did not like being the one to tell of bad news, yet he had done it, without white lies or faulty reassurance, but because it was simply needed. Dr. Sakamoto was a truly unique person; a genius within his field full of compassion for the families of his patients. It never would have occurred to me that only this man was capable of saving Sai's life, if Sai was able to be saved at all. Then again, I guess it never really occurs to anybody when they have met someone truly important.

* * *

I spend the next half hour or so just staring through the glass, looking at Sai; at how broken he is. He's much paler than usual, though I never though it possible before. He looks so weak, so frail, like if this glass isn't here protecting him he would shatter at my very touch. It's sad to see him like this. His breath coming out as fog against the mask on his face, the only reason he's able to continue living at the moment. Unable to move…

My hand reaches up, pressing against the glass that divides us. I know I can't go in. I want to, but I know that I shouldn't. If I truly desired it, I could break the glass with one strong punch, but the shards of glass would be broken and everywhere, just like Sai.

They would cut me.

How small they are, the ways we can express our love for someone. A kiss, a hug, a word or three, a hand pressed against glass, a forehead too… They never truly capture how important they are to us, the ones we love. And when they're gone, because they always go, and we are left with the regret that we did not say something, or do something, or express enough just how important they were.

Guilt.

It makes the blood run cold and the sweet taste vile.

It's a powerful thing.

* * *

I feel like a wuss for crying in public and in front of strangers, but they are people I don't know, people that don't know me, and my face is buried in my arms as I rock myself into calm.

I cry without holding back.

I had long since sat down, my legs too weak from standing, my body too tired to continue on. The bench by the security office isn't exactly comfortable, but as it is the only place to sit where I could be alone –save for the few mischievous, yet they keep their distance; they know a wreck when they see one– and it is here I let myself go. The one time I glanced at the clock there was only an hour until school was officially over, not that I cared when officially set dates came and went. Yet I had sat here for a while now, and a mere hour didn't seem like a long enough label to put on my break from reality.

I still didn't know what was real.

So I continue to rock, and I continue to cry, and I continue to wish that Sai would wake up; that this was all just a bad dream. How I want him to call me Ugly. How I long for a voice by my side to say, "Hello, Ugly." In his voice…

A hand is placed on my shoulder again. It's hesitant, as though it doesn't know what it's truly doing, or why it should be doing it. It's not Dr. Sakamoto's hand; his has no hesitance at all. However, this one is familiar for some reason. The scent is familiar to me, though I can't quite place it from the ache in my head from crying so much.

I had not heard the person sit down next to me; even through my blubbering I would have noticed such a thing,

And then the hand moves, running down between my shoulder blades and towards my lower back, then up slowly, and then back down. It's soothing, a small comfort. Right now, it's exactly what I need, and I lean into the touch, and into the person, and I let him hold me, and he lets me cry.

Gaara…

After all the shit I pulled on him, how badly I treated him, how stupid I was when thinking that I was perfectly fine on my own and tried to get rid of him, he's still here. Like a true bodyguard, he's there when I need him.

And I need him.

"What if I lose him?" I confide, leaning further into Gaara's muscled chest, he pulling me closer in return. My tears pour out even more now, soaking his shirt to the uncomfortable point, yet he says nothing, he doesn't tense, he doesn't pull away, and I'm thankful for it. My hands grip onto him like a lifeline, for he's the only solid in my life right now, the only stability. If I didn't have him here with me right now…

I'd die.

"What if I lose him, too? How am I supposed to…? What can I…? I don't know why I'd want to live anymore!" I wail, my words muffled by his shirt, chest, and my tears, though still powerful. I cling to him tighter, the weight on my own chest starting to dissipate, as though he was absorbing all my weaknesses into himself. God, and I ridiculed him! What a _bitch_ I've been! To be so cruel, and _stupid_ to him, only to sob into him whenever I feel like it! I'm the worst! Yet he sits here with me, and takes it! Saying nothing because I need silence and the patience of someone waiting for me to speak! What would I do without him! What if something were to happen to him, too? My parents, Sai, _and_ Gaara! "I don't know what to do." I whimper, pressing myself against him, trying to curl up in his lap and absorb his warmth. To disappear within his stoic protection; his strength, his warm touch…

He adjusts, allowing my invasion of space for the first time since I met him, because it's what I need. His hand is still rubbing my back, and it's soothing, and it feels good, and I feel disgusting from my guilt, and I'm getting turned on, and my face is wet with tears, and my breathing is difficult, and Sai is dying, and I'm scared, and I feel like a slut, but I feel like this is what I want, but I don't know because-

"I'm so confused! Please, tell me what to do! I'm about to lose everything, and I don't know what I should do! I'm scared! Please, Gaara, what do you want me to do!"

His body tenses, so quickly that for a moment I think that I hurt him somehow, but before I can ask the hand rubbing my back stops moving, and the hand that had been running through my hair even though I didn't notice stops, too, and then he's trying to push me away, and I don't know why, and then I look up to ask what I did wrong, for I know I did something wrong, and I don't want Gaara angry at me, and I see-

"Sasuke!"

I'm on the floor, sprawled and dazed, completely confused why Gaara wasn't in front of me, staring at the dark haired, dark eyed, pale complexioned…

His resemblance is so close to Sai's that reality immediately snaps back.

Bullet wound, hospital, Sai, dying, surgery, Tokihana, guards, Dr. Sakomoto, crying, Gaara, Sasuke…

"I'm sorry," I blurt out embarrassed at my actions, lack of judgment, and failure of recognition.

I'm in front of Sasuke Uchiha, son of the lead detective after my uncle. I'm a Giovanni. I'm a mafian princess.

"W-What are you doing here?" I stutter with a hiccup, trying my best to regain my composure by running my hand across my eyes in order to wipe away any tears, as though by destroying the evidence he wouldn't comprehend that I had been crying, and crying on _him_. I stand up as casually as I can, as though I meant to be on the floor, as though I _hadn't_ spazzed when I realized I was climbing into the lap of an Uchiha because I thought he was someone else.

I pause at the thought.

I climbed into his lap because I thought he was someone else… If he had been Gaara… What would I have done? Those feelings, still confusing and unclear, had undoubtedly been _those_ kinds of feelings. Mixed with the fear, the anger, the guilt, the sadness, there had been the feelings of wanting Gaara, and wanting Gaara to want me. They wouldn't have been spur of the moment, at least I don't think so. So in order for me to have even_ thought_ of that, doesn't that mean that… for Gaara… I actually-

"My dad was called down to the hospital because one of the patients here is associated with crime," he mumbles without looking at me. "He didn't have time to drop me off at home, so I had to come with." Sasuke explains, shifting his positions in order to cross his legs to cover his lap, the presence of a blush known to both me and him, for he looks away ashamed. A pale hand runs through his hair as he tries to explain better. "I saw you over here, so I was going to say hi, but then I realized you were crying, and you were alone, and…" The Uchiha looks up now, his eyes clear of shame, instead filled with sincerity, staring into mine so intently that I can see my own reflection in the dark orbs. "I'm sorry about Sai."

I want to say something, to thank him for his words, or tell him that everything is fine, or that it's none of his business, but no sound makes its way out of my lips.

"My dad is going to want to talk to you," he mumbles, going back to his ashamed lack of eye contact, looking off to the side. I do the same, out of courtesy to him, trying not to bring any more attention to the momentary problem in his pants than I have to.

I owe him that much.

Plus, the momentary freedom allows me time to think about the situation I've gotten myself into. Security guards, witnesses, a shot crime-affiliated friend, a mafian princess, with a detective all in the same building.

Not good.

I'll need to find a way out of here as fast as I can, before the Sasuke's detective dad realizes where I am or who I'm with.

"Hey, look," Sasuke calls, his eyes locked on a group of people that just came from around the far corner, "there's my dad now."

Motherfuc-

My inner cussing is cut off by the immediate notice of a presence of someone standing around the corner just behind me. I turn, as casually as I can, yet terrified that there are people to catch me from behind. Instead, I'm met with a figure calculating the people in the crowd, staring at them with frozen jade eyes. A man who leans so casually against the wall, like he's just waiting for something, yet so skillfully that he's hidden within the turn of the corner, so those that do not know he's there cannot see him. His eyes lock on me now, his red hair blowing from the air from the vent as he moves.

A hand, so quick and tight against my wrist that I know not to protest, orders me to follow him.

"Cops. We need to go."

It's like his voice saying those words is the motivation I need to believe that the problem is serious.

We round the corner, as "normal" as possible, before seeking refuge from the shadows beyond it. Once unnoticed, we run down the corridor as fast as we can, ignoring all voices, including one that sounds like Sasuke. Instead of running all the way down the corridor, I'm met with Gaara's body crashing into me as he makes a hard left, forcing me with him, and we burst into a patient's room. There is no shocked surprise, no yelp for assistance, not even silence. There is only a steady repetitive beeping of monitors, and the sound of air being forced into someone's body by tubes.

I try not to look at the person lying on the bed as we run past, but I do anyway.

It's an old man, a very old man. His skin is sagging and wrinkled, covered with dark spots and scars. His skin clings to his bones, what doesn't sag, and he's so thin I can't help but feel my eyes tear up again at the sight of him. It's wrong to pity people, and degrading, but the sight is sad, and I am sad. So thin he is, and covered only by the paper thin blankets provided him. What if he's cold? Just because he can't say so or move to get his own covers, it doesn't mean that he isn't.

I'm so enveloped in the man that I do not feel Gaara let go of my hand. I cease to run, and no voice calls, so I don't answer.

Aren't there any warmer blankets for him? Isn't there any sort of comfort for him?

Looking around the room, with time I don't have, I see an absence. There are no flowers, no cards, no posters… The TV is off and appears to have a film of dust covering the screen. The remote is still on top of it, and even dustier than the TV. The pillows are from the hospital, as are the blankets and sheets. There is nothing of personal belonging in the room; not a suitcase, or a closet in which to hold clothes.

It's empty. So empty, that I feel if I blink the man will disappear, and I won't be any the wiser to it.

I hate hospitals. I _hate_ them. The patients are people, yet they are treated like cattle. Get them recorded, labeled, and out as fast as you can so the next can come on. The smell wipes away everything about you that there is. Lost within the chemicals are so many things, so many scents. It's like they wash away what a person is, what they're like, and trap them in a white room until they say the person can leave, but only if they say so.

It's sad.

I don't know why, but I walk forward. It's as though my feet carry me to his side whether I want to or not. Gaara does not seem to notice my movement, for he's busy working on opening the window; our exit. The only sounds now are the beeping, the forced breathing, and the repetitive thud of Gaara's shoulder against the strong wooden shutters blocking the escape route.

I was always afraid of hospitals, ever since my parents died. Maybe even earlier. I guess I never really knew why. I just always found them terrifying, a place that would fix you but destroy what you were. They were cold to me, lacking warmth, and humanity, and comforts that were needed more than ever.

So when my hand reached out, I didn't stop it. Though he's a stranger, though he slightly sickens me, though I pity him, I want to give him comfort, even if it's small. I allow my fingers to reach out, to touch him, to rest my palm on his forehead, to stroke his skin as comforting as I can. I'm not doing this because I'm thinking of Sai, and how much I want to touch him. Sai never even crossed my mind since the moment I stepped forward toward the man.

I'm doing this out of compassion.

For someone who had no one to visit him, no one to comfort him, no one to give him flowers, or to wish him well…

I want to be that person for him. Even if it's just for the moment.

"Sakura," Gaara calls, his voice quiet. He's probably confused, or upset at the time I'm wasting, but I don't seem to care. It takes the second call of my name to break me away from the old man. My gaze turns to the red haired figure, and I have no idea what kind of expression must be on my face, but it's strange, for when Gaara looks at me, his eyes become soft.

"We need to go," he speaks quietly, extending his hands slowly toward me from his perch on the sill of the open window.

I nod, taking his hands, noticing how delicate his grip is, how affectionate…

"Hang on," he says as he pulls me close to his chest. "We're going to jump."

I nod again, wrapping my arms around him, grabbing onto his back for extra security and gripping his waist with my legs to keep them out of his way.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

He leaps, and I grip him tighter from subconscious fear, but the exhilaration from falling, of being free from the white walls, of hearing the sounds of cops and security guards entering the room only to see us jump out of a third story window. I smile as they lean out the window to watch us in our descent. Mr. Uchiha dead center in watching us leave them behind, my bodyguard and I.

We hit the sidewalk running.


End file.
